


Eyes in the Darkness, Shadows in the Night

by Lemonjuice_ABC



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based on a Billie Eilish song (loosely), Crack, Dany is basically you watching the figure, Don't Like Don't Read, Dream Meetings, Eyes in the darkness, F/F, Fluff and Smut, I Don't Even Know, Jon in the Shadow who looms over your bed at night, Meeting in real life too, Picks up like chapter four, Shadows in the night, Sleep Paralysis, Weird Plot Shit, if you know you know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25859740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemonjuice_ABC/pseuds/Lemonjuice_ABC
Summary: What if when Jon dies he didn't just disappear into darkness but ended up becoming the figure that you see looming over you when you have sleep paralysis. He ends up finding himself in a strange room, with a pair of bright purples eyes watching him. He has no idea what they want from him or why he was there but what he doesn't know is that the eyes are thinking the exact same thing.When shadows are revealed to be nothing more than men and those haunting eyes to be a lonely woman, they find themself to have more in common than they first thought. (I am terrible at summaries, don't come for me)This was written by tsb1142 on wattpad, I help here and there and I asked her if I can post it and she said yes, so here you go. Don't expect updates regularly, this is purely because we were bored and it was funny to write. It kinda turned into a place where we could write all we wanted to happen in game of thrones, Ser Barristan being alive and stuff like that. Hope you enjoy.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	1. Shadows in the night

The Shadow in the night

He didn't gasp or even burst awake when his mind regained consciousness. All he did was crack open his eyes as if waking up in the early morning and take in a casual breath. He wasn't panicking or upset, he felt nothing but a warm breeze blow passed his face and the ends of his fingers tingle as if they had been slightly frostbitten.

His body felt a little stiff but relaxed and at ease. He didn't know what he would feel but he did not expect this, he thought death would he different. Painful, scary, peaceful but... there was just warmth and tingling.

"For the watch," he thought, his head tipping down to get a look at the damage, his hands shaking violently. His eyes took in his body but there was nothing, no blood, no wounds. The only thing different was the clothes he was wearing. A dark black undershirt, open at the chest and he realized it was to help with the heat rising around him. Black breeches hanging loose at his hips, no weapons, no sword. He was barefoot but he couldn't feel his toes or the stone ground beneath them, so different from what he was used too. All his feet did was tingle, that was the only sigh apart from him seeing them that they were actually there.

He let out a deep breath as he took in the room. It was large, he couldn't see all of it from his place in the corner but he could see a large bed sitting against the wall. Half was hidden by the shadows of the night, while the bottom half was lit by the pale moonlight that spilt in from the open balcony to it's left. The curtains blowing and swaying in the wind, brushing against the top of the slight step standing at the balcony.

He moves to take in the rest of the room but his mind went elsewhere. His eyes caught the eyes watching him, the owner shrouded by darkness. The figure lying in the bed not moving, not sleeping, just watching. He swallowed not knowing what to think of the calm gaze that met his.

The eyes were bright and alive, violet- no lilac, he thought. They were the most beautifully haunting eyes he had ever seen and he wondered why she sat there. She? he thought, was it a she, he couldn't tell. He wanted to moves forward or even break there eye contact but he couldn't, he felt trapped... by his body, his mind awake but his body asleep. His limbs were frozen, his eyes locked and there was no moving them.

What do you want from me? He couldn't understand why he was there and why she just watched him. Did she want something from him, was he there for a reason? Was he meant to tell her something, to give her something, to show her something? He was there she wasn't, this was her room, he didn't recognise it. He was there for her but what did she want.

Why don't you run from me? She just sat there saying nothing, not moving her gaze, never faltering but still he couldn't help but feel like she should run away as if he was dangerous. He was a stranger standing in her room just watching her and she did not move. Any other would have killed him, screamed for help or just run away but she hadn't and he couldn't understand why.

What are you wondering? All he got from her gaze was that she was calm, nothing else. He didn't know what she was thinking, what she thought of him. What was she thinking? He felt curious about the figure, wanting to move forward, wanting to say something but still... he felt unable and slightly terrified by it.

What do you know? She must know something. She must know what happened to him. He couldn't tell though and he felt frustrated and self-conscious about it. Why won't she say anything to me? he thought. Why doesn't she move?! He shouted in his mind.

He was stuck there in a constant loop, coming back night after night, not knowing what it was that was keeping him here. Was this death? Was this his hell? He couldn't work out what it was. All he could do was watch her night after night from his corner on the other side of the room, trying desperately to have his questions answered by her.

He had begun answering his own question, his thoughts turning deadly as he tried to escape. Did he have to kill her? Did she have to kill him? What would it be like to kill her? Would it put an end to this nightmare?

He wanted to shout at her to spit out whatever she was thinking. His mind playing tricks on him telling him she was trying to tell him something. He had no-one to talk to but the darkness in his mind, he had nothing else to do but watch her. He wasn't anywhere when it was light out, he didn't know where he went he only knew when he woke he was here watching the eyes that were stapled in his mind.


	2. Eyes in the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long nights of watching from the eyes prospective...

The Eyes in the darkness

She couldn't look away, the shadowed figure in the corner her only thought, the only thing that was in her vision. It's face shrouded in darkness, it's body hidden by the shadow as if it was hiding from her. She swallowed the terror, she felt unable to do anything else. Her limbs frozen and her eyes wouldn't close. She didn't know what it was or what was happening to her. All she knew was that she couldn't take her eyes off the figure.

It gave her ominous feeling but she couldn't express her sudden horror because she couldn't speak or move, she couldn't even cry and how she wanted too. What did it want from her? Why was it there? She didn't have the answer nor would she ever get them.

She thought when she first saw it, it was there to kill her as if it was a personification of evil itself, there to punish her for the good she had been doing for the city of Meereen. But as time went on she realised it wasn't. It helped ease the terror slightly but still, she didn't know what it was? Or what it wanted. All she knew was that it was there just watching as if she was its source of entertainment during the cool nights. It sunken dark eyes always capturing her gaze then like a spell holding her there.

When the sun poked its head she would gasp awake, her eyes finally blinking and her limbs moving. She would not be crippled with fear and curl up and cry. No. She would go about her day always thinking about the creature that seemed to haunt her at night, trying to work out what it was? And what it wanted from her? She found herself daydreaming about it, not listening to her advisors as they discuss the happenings in her city.

"Your Grace," her closest friends said. Her golden gaze meeting hers, filled with worry and fear as if she understood what was going on with her but she didn't, she didn't know. The curly haired girl sat before her in her private chambers, at her desk. She held her hands in her lap clenching them in a nervous tick. "What is it?" The womans smooth, caring voice asked.

She thought about the figure. Would it care if she told someone, why did she feel like she had to keep him a secret? He? Was it a he? She looked up at her friend painting a reassuring smile on her face to distract her friend. "It's nothing, just a nightmare." She explained in a nonchalant tone as if it was not the thing that consumed her every waking thought. That the figure was not the only thing that truly terrified her.

Her friend's busy brows knitted together, showing that her smile was not as good as she had hoped. "Are you sure? I will stay with you if you wish, Your Grace." Her friend said ducking down to catch Dany's falling gaze, trying to look her right in the eye as she said it. Dany felt herself drift, her face become stoic but she knew her eyes held a window to her thoughts.

She thought about Missandei staying with her. Would he be upset? Would he come if she was with her? She asked herself. She didn't want to risk her dearest friend but somewhere deep down she knew that the monster in the corner of her room would not harm her, it was a voice in the back of her head that told her this, nearly being drowned by the louder voices telling her the opposite.

She looked at her friend who had been watching her, as she slowly turned the nobs in her mind to concoct an answer for her. "I would like that." She whispered, her voice more vulnerable than she'd even realised.

When night came she and Missandei stayed in her large bed. The silk covers nearly strangling her as she brought them up to her neck, trying her hardest to cover every inch of herself from the Shadow just in case he came. She felt self-conscious under his gaze like he was judging her.

She felt Missandei's faint breaths next to her, telling her she women had fallen asleep. It was a comfort having her friend with her. She would stop the shadow, she thought, as sleep slowly took her. Her mind drifting to darkness as the wind blew in through the curtains and the moonlight cascaded through the window, dribbling over the bottom of her bed.

She felt her eyes open slowly. No! she screamed in her mind. It was happening, she wanted to punish sleep for taking her body instead of her mind like it did most nights. She felt locked to the bed and she knew this is how it began, he would be waiting in the corner for her with his sunken eyes and needing gaze.

And there he was waiting, he didn't even look to Missandei next to her and neither did she. She wanted to reach out, to wake her up, make her see what it was that plagued her mind. But she couldn't, all she could do was watch it stand there, watching her.

That little voice in the back of her head telling her he was not evil, that he was not there to hurt her but she couldn't help but feel the opposite. She hated not being in control especially of her own body, it was as if she was a slave to him. The bed was her chains and his gaze her prison.

The little voice grew louder and louder until it was the only voice in there and she was forced to listen. She felt herself become calmer as she watched him. There was still terror but it was muted. She watched him with curiosity, wanting to see him. Slowly she watched as the sunken eyes changed, they slowly faded to reveal human eyes. Dark stormy eyes watching her with curiosity too. He didn't seem to be there to hurt her, only watch her, but why.

For the first time in a while she was not utterly terrified by the figure, his eyes beautifully haunting. Making her calm and comfortable as she watched them watch her.


	3. Dangerous Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say about this one...

The Shadow in the night

He saw two in the bed this time but still the only one he focused on was the one who was watching him, she didn't let up. He felt himself going mad. He wanted to end it, to end her and those eyes that held him. He wanted to rip them out, he wanted to gauge them until they couldn't watch him anymore. He knew the thoughts were dangerous but he couldn't help but have them. He wanted to end her.

Why aren't you scared of me? He screamed. He would be, he was a man standing in her corner just watching her. He wanted to hurt her but he couldn't because he was frozen there just watching her. Was he a ghost? If he was why would he be here, why would be stuck watching her, would this be this way for the rest of his life.

Why do you care for me? He couldn't understand why her eyes were always so calm, why they were always on him. Why did he matter to her? He was dead. Killed by his own men and now he was being punished even more by the gods. He wanted to end it.


	4. Men from Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadows are revealed and eyes finally blink...

The Eyes in the darkness

She woke calmly that morning, her eyes blinking a few times trying to regain moisture in them. She couldn't help but sigh out in relief, she knew something about the figure. It's stormy grey eyes, kind, curious and solemn. She wanted to know who they belonged to, or what they belonged to.

The next few nights answered some of the questions, the less terrified she became the more the figure revealed itself to her. His sharp nose, his soft looking plump lips, his bearded jaw that framed his beautiful face. He was handsome and for some reason, he still didn't move. She saw his hair reviled this night, dark raven locks fallen down either side of his face the ends resting on his broad shoulders.

She took a deep breathe, feeling her breathing become uneven as she took him all in. She didn't realise until moments later that she had just taken a deep breath. She brought her hand up to her mouth in shock, her eyes widening. She could move, her stiff limbs becoming more pliable as she slowly moves each of them.

He gaze didn't falter though, nor did he moves from his corner in her room. Was he waiting for her? She thought. She didn't know what he was thinking, his dark gaze only meeting her own showing deep pain in them. He had seen death, she knew.

She slowly sat up from the bed, the covers sliding down her sheer nightgown, her loose hair brushing against the small of her back slightly. She moved slowly not wanting to scare the man. She was curious and felt the urge to go up to him and look at him closer, to touch him. The thought seemed almost forbidden but she swung her feet off the bed.

She watched him still, her gaze travelling down his body as she took in his slightly exposed chest which showed her hardened muscles. She let her feet touch the stone ground, the cold making her toes tingle slightly and she looked down, flexing them. She slowly looked up to him and saw he had taken a step forward, his gaze travelling down her figure as she stood and walked into the moonlight waiting for her at the end of her bed.

She watched him shuffle from one foot to the other his eyes darker then she had ever seen them as she walked closer to him. There was something about his gaze that made a shiver run down her spine and her stomach flutter. She took another step forward. She was only an arm's length away from him now and she felt herself become anxious with anticipation, her head tilting slightly to take him in properly.

He was lean but muscular, standing only a few inches taller than herself. His feet bare along with his fingers, which looked large and scarred, calluses on the palms showing he was a seasoned warrior. She reached out to him taking a step forward. She placed her hand on his cheek. He flinched but let her slowly touch him, his whiskers scraping slightly against her smooth palms.

She tilted his head down to her so she could look into his eyes again. A scar ran over his left eyes ending on his cheek. It looked old and healed. The curved scar over the top of his right eyes did not, it looked like it had happened recently. She looked down at his body again and saw his chest was bear. She gasped not because of the chiselled abs but because of the wounds that were laying atop them, they were bleeding. The blood dripping to the floor pooling around their feet. She placed her other hand on the scar above his heart the one that seemed to be bleeding the worst.

She terror racked through her once again but not because of him, no, for him. She didn't want him to die. She felt like there was more than she needed from him. She needed questions answered, she needed him to live. His wounds didn't let up though, they kept bleeding, the blood pouring through her fingers like silk.

She looked up at him but he wasn't terrified or Sad. His Onyx gaze just watched her in awe as if she was some miracle or angle, she felt caught off guard by the look. She opened her mouth "Who- her words were cut off as his face began to fade into the darkness. She watched in horror as his figure faded until there was nothing, her hand falling into the air that was left.

The Shadow in the night 

He gasped awake. His grey eyes flashed with lilac as he lurched up on the cold table of... Castle black he thought as he took in his surroundings. He looked down at his chest. He swallowed seeing several puckered scar there meeting his gaze, he brought his shaking hands to them, they felt sore not because of the pain but because of the betrayal.

His mind went to the women who watched him, she was the most beautiful being he had ever seen. Her silver locks lit by the moonlight, falling loosely down her back, brushing at the small of her back. A sheer purple nightgown hugging her small curvy figure. Her hips swaying slightly as she took tentative steps towards him. He couldn't take his eyes off her and he didn't even want too. She was like an angel her pale skin shining as if she was the moon itself.

Her eyes, that haunted him for many nights were to be the bane of many of his dreams now. They were impossibly beautiful, watching him with curiosity as they raked over his entire form. When she had touched him, her smooth delicate hand resting on his cheek, burning his flesh. She felt like fire itself and he would let her consume him.

He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, his mind finally realising it was free and he was alive again but he didn't know if he wanted to be.


	5. Strangers in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man behind the shadow and the woman behind the eyes come together in a shared dream...

The Eyes 

She took a deep breath as she settled in the darkness the shadow had left her in. Or should she say, man? He was but a man after all. His long solemn face hollow from lack of attention to himself. His features culminating to make his... handsome appearance.

His eyes haunting, filled with a darkness that showed only pain. She understood the look well. He has known betrayal, his unsure gaze had told her so, a deep betrayal that cut deep into his heart like the scars on his chest. He was a child of darkness just as she was and they were brought together for some reason.

His long curly locks, dark and silky hanging around his face like he was some prince from old. She felt as though her fingers itch to brush through such a treasure, to just feel the weight of them in her hands seemed to be enough. It was a childish thought but she could not rid herself of it no matter how hard she had tried. 

He looked young, about her age yet his beard hid a few years and his youthful looks well. Giving of the false pretences that he was older then he was, along with the graceful and alluring way he held himself.  
He was not like any other but then again he was a shadow, a figment of her imagination. But he seemed much more than that, all of it felt more than that. He was real.

She let out a shaky breath and stumbled back onto her bed, her body felt as if a weight had been lifted from it but still, she felt he had secured a place with her. He was apart of her like the darkness was apart of the night. Her fingers gripped the crisp silk sheets, her eyes staring down at her petite feet lit by the small light from the moon stream in and cover them like a small mist.

She could not describe the feeling in her heart. She felt hollow, very different from what she expected. And what did I expect? She thought to herself. She didn't have an answer, but she didn't expect emptiness, to feel so... alone.

She ignored it and got on with her day, being the Queen she was and yet somewhere in the back of her mind he lingered. Every night before her eyes closed she would think of him, whisper a silent prayer that he would come to her. But she would just wake disappointed. 

Days bled into weeks and night after night she fell to the grips of sleep and woke up unscathed. She would sometimes wake in the middle of the night, his eyes flashing in her mind and her own eyes flying to the corner. But there was nothing but shadows. It left her frustrated and alone, turning the night sky for comfort. 

But she was a Queen. She brushed away her strange and unnecessary thought and feelings for her people. She needed to be sound of mind and not be strung on mystical beings lurking in her corner as if she was a child scared of the monster under her bed.

"I fear our campaign of Westeros will not be as easy as we once thought." 

Tyrion said across from her on the other side of the table in her council chambers. Missandei sat next to her, quite but always diligent. 

Ser barrister was stood behind her, ever vigilant and grounding. He was there to offer up his opinion when it was necessary. She valued his company more than she did his knowledge, he was a steady figure, there to watch over her almost like a father. 

She felt strangely nostalgic seeing Ser Barristan stand alone, her old bear missing. Off on an impossible journey that will most likely lead him to his death. I did that to him, she thought. 

She pushed it away and focused on the task at hand. 

"We have the Greyjoys on our side, they hold one of the largest fleets in the seven kingdoms. We will also have the Reach and Dorne on our side if Lord Varys is as good as you suggest, My Lord. I know it will not be easy but it will be easier then it would have without them. We stand a better chance then your sister." 

"Still, you need to realise that this will not be as easy as it was in Essos. You do not just face the challenge of taking the throne, you also face the challenge of the people accepting you. Without the peoples support you will find it hard to maintain the land. You need to be careful with how we handle it. The seven kingdoms are fragile and will not take to kindly to another war on their lands." 

She understood what it was that he was saying and she agreed. She was going back with three dragons, foreign soldiers and the name Targaryen. Those three things will not warrant much love in such a place and she knew she had to realise that and not be ignorant to it as her brother was.

"I understand, My Lord. This is why I have given you the position of my hand."

She smiled under her breath at the proud look he gave her, similar to the one he had given her when she gave him the badge he now wore on his chest. She knew that Tyrion did not easily trust or follow and to have him bend the knee and put his faith in her was enough to make her want to honour him. 

She sighed looking out to the falling sun. Nightfall will be soon and with it came... him. Not anymore, she chided herself for even wishing for it. Why wish for a shadow man who would offer her nothing but sadness. 

Because he made me feel less lonely, a voice whispered.

She looked to the group sensing the conversation had come to an end.  
"We should all get some rest, tomorrow will be the beginning of a long journey across the narrow seas and after that the start of the war to end all wars. We will discuss more once we land on Dragonstone until then find peace while you can."

The group nodded and began to filter from the rooms leaving her alone with her attentive shadow. 

"Are you happy to be going home, Ser Barristain?" She asked turning to him and smiling gently. A smile she only reserved for him. 

He returned her smile and cast his gaze off into the distance. "It has not felt like home for some time, Your Grace, but I will happy to see you where you belong." 

He was always so kind and held confidence in her that could never waver. She enjoyed the feeling. "Some would say I don't belong on the Throne. First for being a woman and second for being a foreigner." She was not blind, nor was she deaf, she knew what was said about her. 

Ser Barristain moved to come and stand beside her, his figure looming over her. "Some would say we live in the eye of a giant." He said trying to cheer her up. 

She huffed out a laugh at this sorry attempt to make her laugh. 

"People say a lot of things but it's your job to listen to the useful things, to yourself and your council. What people say will mean nothing when you sit on the throne. They will see Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, their Queen and protector." He said reaching out his hand and gently taking hers in a comforting gesture.

"I am at a loss for a reason as to why anyone would dismiss you from their service. Joffrey was surely as mad as they say. I do not know what I would do without you, Ser." She said kindly covering his hand with her own.

His face split in a shy smile, turning a slight pink. A strange thing to see in a man of his age but not strange to see in a man as humble as Ser Barristan the Bold. 

"You are too kind, Your Grace." He responded his eyes flickering to hers.

She sighed and pulled her hand from his and suddenly stood feeling her limbs moaning at her for sleep. She was in no position to deny them.  
Ser Barristan stood with her, pulling his hand behind his back and standing straight. 

"I am to retire, the day seems to have taken a toll on my mind and my body. I bid you a good night, Ser"

He bowed to her. "Good night, Your Grace," he said.

She smiled and walked out of the room and into the hallway, her unsullied guard fell into step behind her. She couldn't help but feel anxious, for come dawn she would be up and getting ready to leave for Westeros. It was odd to her, she still hadn't quite realised what was coming or where she was going.

Would he be there? She thought. There was a part of her that hoped he would. Apart of her wanted to find this man and get some answers. But there was also a part of her that wanted to forget the whole ordeal, the experience was as terrifying as it was intriguing and she can't help but think her life would be better of if it never happened.

She entered the apartment attached to her rooms and walked straight through to her sleeping quarters to ready herself for bed. As she was doing so she looked to the corner, the candlelight had it light up so she could see where the walls touched one and other. Nothing, she said to herself as her handmaidens came in to help her dress.

Once she was dressed and ready to sleep she lay in bed feeling sleep eludes her. Why dress for the occasion? She thought bitterly closing her eyes and taking a deep breath so sleep would know she was willing. 

She slowly drifted off her mind becoming fuzzy and her body becoming light and limp. She let in a deep breath through her nose and succumbed to the darkness after nearly an hour of trying she fell into a fitness sleep.

What felt like a second later she felt her body come aware and back to the living once again. She felt heavy blankets covering her body, it was so warm she felt she was lying in a furnace. Her head was lying upon a soft thick pillow that smelled off... pine, earth and male musk. It was intoxicating and warming more so than the blankets.

She let her eyes flutter open to look up at the ceiling. It was pitch black but she saw the subtle shapes of the headboard above her, alien to the one she was used too. Strange, she thought, shifting in the sinking, soft mattress.

She halted in place when she felt a body next to her. Her own acutely aware of the being next to her, sharing her bed. She sat up swiftly disturbing the peacefully sleeping figure next to her in the bed.

He groaned, "Stop, Ghost." He mumbled half asleep. His voice low and gruff, his words spoken in a rough accent similar to Jorah's but much stronger and prominent in his words. It was a nice accent she thought, liking the way he spoke. But who was Ghost? And where was she?

She swallowed and looked around the room. They were large quartes but not as grand as even the guest chambers in her pyramid. It was cosy and warm, with the hearth alive and blazing.

The light from the fire spilt into the room letting her see the two chairs sitting before it with a table between the two. The small, round, wooden table held a cup which seemed to belong to the man next to her. A man, she thought.

She felt her heart begin to pick up speed but still, she felt no fear. It was as if her body knew where she was and who he was. She took a deep breath and swung her legs from the bed so she could stand.

She placed her feet onto the floor only to be stopped in her tracks by the soft bristles that welcomed her. The warmth from the fur rug was like a luxurious prison to her toes, not willing to let her go and she wasn't willing to leave either.

She stifled a soft sigh and closed her eyes for only a moment. I need to get one of these for my chamber, she thought. It was with that thought she remembered her mission. She stood quietly and turned to the bed seeing unruly curls picking out from the covers.

She heard a croak from behind her and turned to see blood-red eyes shining at her. She froze on the spot, her breathing laboured as she tried to stay as still as possible. The beasts head was level with her own, yet he stood on four legs instead of two. She could see his white furs shining in the darkness.

She took a deep breath seeing him come closer tentatively. She leaned back onto the bed, letting her hand rest atop the mattress to hold her up. I'm going to die, she thought.

But she didn't. The beast nudged his snout against her chest and sniffed her intensely. He didn't seem like he wanted to hurt her. His eyes bore into hers as he leaned forward and licked her cheek making her let out a melody of high pitch giggles.

She smiled and reached out her hand letting it sink into his long thick fur. Her fingers audibly sighed feeling the soft bristles against her hand, her heart calming instantly. 

"You are beautiful." She whispered holding his head in both her hands and placing a kiss on the top of his head.

"Who are you?" She heard the voice say from being her.

She stiffened instantly, her eyes going wide as she looked to the beast for help. He seemed to have nothing to give but his assurance that everything was alright.

She heard shuffling behind her and slowly turned to see a figure standing on the other side of the bed his face dipped in darkness. He wasn't wearing any upper clothing leaving his chest bare to her, it held seven deep scars. Similar to ones the man had she realised looking over all of him. All that she could see.

He was just a few inches taller then she was, he was lean but muscular built like a worrier. She noticed his curls a few moments before and couldn't help but think... No, it couldn't be.

She stood beside the beast one hand still buried in its fur. "Who are you?" She retorted back, not quite knowing what was going on.

He crossed his strong arms over his chest. "I asked you first, lady. I won't have random women coming into my bed. I demand to know who you are?!" He said his voice filled with fire.

She felt her own rage bubbling and scoffed at his insolence. "You dare command me?!" She said furiously. "I am Queen of Meereen and ruler of Dragons bay, I am the rightful heir to the iron throne. You do not get to demand anything of me!" She said feeling her blood run hot with fire.

She watched as he picked something up from the nightstand. A candle is she saw right. He lit it and in doing so gave her the perfect view of his face. It was him, she thought in utter shock. 

"You-You're the man. You were the shadow." She said breathlessly.

His eyes were as wide as hers felt, the shock written on his face reflecting her own. "The eyes" he whispered both just staring. 

How could this be happening? He was nothing but a dream and yet here he was standing before her, watching her just as she watched him. This was his rooms, she realised. 

"Who are you?" He asked again this time she was inclined to answer.

"Daenerys, and you?" She saw his eyes double in size taking in her silver hair and lilac eyes realising for himself who she was.

"Jon." 

He looked too handsome to be a Jon, she thought taking in his high cheekbones and beautiful locks. Still, his eyes were what draw her to him. She could see his soul in those depths, all his thought swirling around behind his dark grey gaze. 

"You're Daenerys Targaryen." He pointed out.

She nodded. She suddenly felt the beast leave her side, his piercing white fur so prominent now that the room had been illuminated. He was as large as a horse, she could easily ride him.

He stalked around the bed and stood at the man's side, gaining his attention with a nudge. "What is it, Ghost?" So that is Ghost, she thought admiring how fitting the name was.

She watched as Ghost nudge him out of the way to climb onto the bed and take up his entire space. She smiled a little at him, her eyes flickering up to an annoyed Jon making her smile a little brighter. 

"Beautiful," he said breathlessly as he caught her gaze once again.

She couldn't help but feel affected by his words. The rawness in his eyes showing he was not saying them out of lust or secret ambition, only out of truth. She felt oddly warm by it, a feeling foreign to her.

"Where are we?" She asked looking around and changing the subject.

She needed to get back to Meereen. She was to he sailing to Westeros on the morrow she couldn't be here. Wherever that was.

Jon shuffled, "The North, My Lady, Winterfell." Winterfell, she thought. 

She was in the home of the starks, the family who brought about the end of hers. Was this man a stark, she thought eyeing him closely. He was far to pretty to be a Stark dog.

"Why would I be in Winterfell?" She asked gesturing to there surroundings as if he didn't see them himself. "I was just in my bed, in Meereen." 

He frowned, "That's where I was all that time. I thought it was hell." He said to himself, his voice trailing off as he stared blankly at the bed before him.

"I can assure you Meereen is not that bad, not that bad to be considered to be hell, My Lord." She saw him flinch when he called him lord as if it was a jab to the face.

"I suppose it's not as bad as KingsLanding. Not that I would know." He responded, smiling gently at her.

The sight was far more beautiful than she had expected, the lightness dancing in his dark gaze making them sparkle. His face spreading and lighting up making him look like a new man. She sucked in a breath and slowly found her own smile. 

"I wouldn't know either. From the looks of things anywhere the Lannisters rule could be considered hell." She retorted seeing his eyes darken. She liked that, it sent a dangerous shiver down her spine.

"Lannisters are the least of my worries, My Lady." He offered morbidly. 

He seemed like he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. It's probably why they are so muscular, she thought eyeing his still bare chest.

She looked away trying not to get distracted. "Why am I here and why were you in my rooms in Meereen?" 

"I hold no answers for you, My Lady, only more questions of my own I wish to see answered." He said moving from the side of the bed and picking up the tunic lying across the chair by the fire and putting it on.

She followed him watching as he stocked the fire and place more wood in it to bring it back to life once again. 

"How am I supposed to get back?" She asked him moving to follow him as he knelt beside the fire. 

He stopped for a moment and turned to her. "Do you think it's similar to before? When dawn comes we wake up, or you do." It made sense. 

She felt as though this was real yet there was still a voice in her head that reminded her it was all but a dream. But why would she dream this?

A beautiful sound broke her from her daze, her eyes narrowing as she watched him chuckle. The sound hearty and deep. 

"What is it?" Her own words were lightened by her smile, one that was set into her face because of him. 

"I was just wondering if that is what I looked like when I brooded. Minus the unworldly beauty obviously." He said messing with the fire again.

He realised what he said before it was too late, "Forgive me, My Lady, I didn't me-"

"You didn't mean to compliment me. That's a first." She teased watching him become more flustered.

A long silence surrounded them, it was uncomfortable but it felt void, lonely. She wanted to know more about, wanted to see him smile instead of frown. 

"What are we supposed to do all night?" She asked, trying to make conversation. 

He sighed and stood looking down at the roaring fire before turning to her. "We can work out what is going on. Or we can just drink and talk." He said gesturing for her to take a seat in the second chair as he took the other.

She hummed thinking about his question. "I feel like we should talk about this. I need to know what's going on before I get to Westeros." She said leaning back in the comfortable chair.

He sighed and picked up the discarded cup and walked over to the table sitting against the wall and filled his cup with a dark brown liquid. He looked back to her with a small smile as if hesitant to ask.

"Would you like some ale, My Lady?" 

She nodded which gave him his permission, he poured another cup. She had never drunk northen ale before but she was willing to try.

"That would be most kind of you, My-" she stopped herself seeing his reaction to it earlier. "Jon" she finished instead watching him nod blankly.

Their fingers brushed against one and other softly as he handed her, her cup, eliciting a strange tingle through her body. One that seemed to send a shiver down her spine and a thudding in her heart, and by the look on his face he seemed to have had the same reaction. But he quickly dismissed it, looking away from her and removing his hand. 

He came to sit beside her, his warmth felt even though there was a small gap between them. 

"So... how was it that you came to be in my rooms?" She asked taking a sip of her drink. It was bitter and thick but it wasn't wildly unpleasant on the palate.

He watched her carefully trying to cypher her reaction as he sipped his ale. 

"I-I... well, My Lady, it's a long story and I doubt it will be something you would be inclined to believe giving we have known each other a matter of minutes. I was at castle black and then I wasn't. I woke up and I was stuck in that corner watching you." He took another sip, his eyes trained in the flames.

"I couldn't move, couldn't look away. I had to wait there all night just watching, just wondering what it was you were thinking. What you wanted from me." He swallowed thickly and turned to her. "I would stand there all night and when morning came I would just... disappear. It was like I only lived during the night, there was no day for me."

She saw the torment playing in his dark gaze, the pain and confusion he had felt night after night dancing in his eyes. She couldn't even image, couldn't think about it. She would have surely grown mad being alone with the night as my only chance at living, but it wasn't living, not for him. 

She took another sip of her ale, finding that the liquid was growing on her.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Jon. I know we don't know each other well but I feel like we understand one and other. We know what it is like to go what we went through and I also feel you understand what it is like to feel like you are responsible for everything. I can tell power weighs heavy on your shoulders as it does myself."

She could feel the connection between them, he was different but yet so similar to her. Like Ice to her Fire. She wanted to know if that was what drew them together. 

He nodded and ran his finger over the brim of his cup, looking down at the dark ale rippled like small waves. "Why didn't you tell me to leave? Why didn't you say something? What did you want from me?" He blurted out, his eyes pleading with her.

He seemed to be in the exact position as her, no answer only questions. It was comforting to know she wasn't alone in her feelings.

"I was stuck just as you were. I couldn't look away. I had no voice, no control of my body. All I could do was look at you, terrified."

He lowered his head in shame which was odd to her, most men wouldn't care.

"That was until I realised there was no need to be afraid. I started to see more of you and to get back control over myself until... until I could see all of you and I was able to stand before you." She continued.

He swallowed and looked to her. "So all you had to do was show you weren't afraid and then..." he gestured to her. "Do you think it was the same for me?" He asked sitting forward.

She shrugged, most unqueen like, she thought. "It might have been different. Were you afraid of me?" She asked curiously.

His head sagged a little as if in shame, "I was just frustrated and sad, I thought about killing you at one point." He said honestly as he let out a pained chuckle. "It was a dark time, My Lady, I would never have such thoughts now." He added looking up at her through he thick dark lashes.

She blinked a number of times to let the information sink in. It didn't help that he was looking at her that way.

"Call me Daenerys, I have never been a lady." 

She was a Princess and then she was a Queen, a lady was something that she had never been and never will be.

He nodded. "Daenerys." He said testing her name on his lips. The sound of her name in his northen bur would be enough to make any woman swoon. But she was no mere woman and she did not act like a love-struck maid, that is alas what she tried to tell herself.

"I think it was to do with my fear and your ability to not be frustrated. So you needed to relax, to just be in the moment." She explained, her theory was not foolproof but it was the best she could come up with.

He nodded. "It makes sense." Was all he said as he leaned his head back on the chair and looked into the flames. He had his arms on the armrest, his cup lose in his grasp. He seemed relaxed at that moment.

"Are you from Winterfell?" She asked mimicking him in his sitting position finding it most comfortable.

He turned his head to look at her and she did the same to him. "Aye, I was raised here." He said vaguely. He wasn't one for talking, she realised.

"What was it like?" She asked. Her child mind wishing to know what it was like to grow up with a home and family and in Westeros.

He smiled to himself and looked to the ceiling his head still tilted back on the back of the seat. "I was raised beside my 5 siblings. They were all true borns but I was treated just as they were when it came to my father. I was always closest go my brother Robb, he was the oldest and heir to Winterfell-"

She sat up suddenly. "You're a Stark. You're Eddard starks son." Viserys stories rang through her mind, but she couldn't picture this man to be the kin of the unwashed barbarian Viserys had described. 

He sat up, frowning at her. "I'm not a stark but aye, Eddard Stark was my father." He didn't sound bitter saying it, but the words seemed to derserve some sort of bitterness. 

"You're father was the usurpers best friend and helped destroy my family." Her tone was harsh now, not that she wanted it to be. 

Jon sat up fully now, his frown much deeper. "Your family destroyed itself. Your father was a mad man and killed my grandfather and uncle. He would have burnt the seven kingdoms if it weren't for my father." 

He shook himself letting his anger fade, "Daenerys. I don't judge you because who your father is, I ask you not to do the same for me.'' He sounded tired and looked it as he slumped back into his previous position. 

She was left in shock over him, finding him a breath of fresh air. "Are the rest of Westeros like you?" She asked, slightly confused he hadn't berated her about being the Mad Kings daughter. 

He shrugged, lazily, "When you have seen and experienced what I have you learn to judge people on their actions and not their name. I am a Snow after all. I know a person can be more than what people believe they are." 

She couldn't help the lazy smile that lingered on her lips as she felt herself lounging in her chair. The sound of fire crackling and spitting a strange comfort in the serene silence. She idly whispered things to him and he her and they just stayed like that, going back and forth every once and a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon is super lazy because Daenerys relaxes him, just as he helps her feel confident and strong. It relates back to when they were just shadows and eyes. Dany had to learn to not be afraid and Jon had to learn to relax and now that just how they feel around one and other. Dany is a Dragon but she is still wrestling with what that means, and Jon cannot help but be a dower sod, always frustrated at the world for not caring. 
> 
> We just wanted to continue the story so we decided to add this little feature. We don't actually know where we are going with this.


	6. Night time Escapades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys finds out who Jon Snow really is. Ice and fire clash in more ways than one.

**The Shadow**

'See you soon, Jon' a kind voice whispered. The voice paired with a warm smile that made the woman's lilac eyes sparkle in the darkness. 

Those eyes were so beautiful... she was so beautiful. 

His eyes cracked open to find his derelict room, the fire pathetically spitting out burnt out embers. The chill from outside, circling around his room making a shiver run down his spine. It felt empty, cold and lonely now she was gone. 

His limbs were stiff, his neck cracking as he moved to sit up from his now uncomfortable chair. He leaned forward with a loud groan, his eyes squinting in a wince as he slowly rubbed his tired neck. He looked down at his feet and saw his cup was lying in the floor in a pool of dark ale that had once filled it. 

His mind drifted to the night before, the image of a smiling Daenerys popping into his head. Tainting any thoughts of thinking clearly today.

All he could do was think of her. She turns up in his dream and he is able to sleep for the first time in... forever. He had never felt so relaxed or calm in another's presence since he was brought back. She was like milk of the poppy but he feared she would be far harder to withstand when the time came to stop thinking of her or using her.

Daenerys Targaryen. A Targaryen Queen was the woman in his dreams and nightmares. She was a goddess in human form, there was no other reason for her to be so handsome. He couldn't help but think her so, even though she was supposedly an enemy. 

I _ shouldn't be thinking of her like that,  _ he chided himself. 

She had all but taken his breath away the first time he had seen her. Her silver-gold locks flowing down her back like a waterfall reflecting the light of the moon. Her features delicate and comely, far from any other woman he had ever seen. Her succulent red lips, her piercing lilac eyes, her long black lashes, all working together to create the magnificent creature that stood before him. It was as if she was kissed by ice as Ygritte was kissed by fire. But she was fire herself, she was the Dragon Queen. 

_ Why was she in his dreams though? _ She was a queen and he a Stark bastard. Their connection couldn't be more strange but he felt oddly safe with her as if she was there to make him feel such a way. 

When he had come back, the site of her was the thing that stabled him, anchored him to the living.  _ It must have something to do with the similarities between them,  _ he thought. She may be a queen but she seemed as burdened and lost as he was. He could see from the way she looked upon him she noticed it too, that familiarity. The shared feeling of having no place in the world that is truly yours. 

He thought about telling others of his dreams, of what he had seen when he was... on the other side to put it lightly. But who would believe him? Davos was an open-minded fellow but being a shadow in the Dragon Queen's room must be where he drew the line. It was crazy, he knew it and no one would believe it. 

At least that is what he told himself, in truth he felt strangely protective of his secret. It was his and his alone to keep  _ and she was his and his alone to watch,  _ a voice said in the back of his mind.

He shook himself not liking the way it sounded. He was a King. He needed to prepare the north for the coming winter and the threat it brought with it. He had to brush these thoughts away and think only of his people. That is what being King meant, was it not? 

_ She was Queen,  _ the voice added,  _ she has three fire breathing Dragons's if the rumours were to be believed.  _ He sat there letting his mind continue, finding the topic to be most interesting. It was true she was supposedly the mother of three fire breathing Dragon's if the rumours and Aemon's letters were to be believed. And fire killed wights. But would she believe him? Would she even help him? 

She had no reason too, she was a Queen and it seemed her only goal was the iron throne.  _ But this effected her too,  _ he said to himself. She needed to know, but he wouldn't tell her yet. He needed to know her, he needed her trust before he just sprung this on her. He was speaking as a man who knew he would see her again. What if it was just a figment of his imagination, just a cruel trick from the gods?

He ran his hand through his dishevelled hair and took a deep breath to calm his mind. He stood tall and stretched out his cramped limbs, feeling himself let out a satisfied groan as his body loosened, losing it's stiffness. He staggered forward towards the hearth and nearly jolted back when he felt a cool, wet liquid under his barefoot.

He pulled back in repulse, his feet becoming sticky. He looked down at the metal cup that used to hold his ale.  _ It must have fallen from his grasp when he fell asleep,  _ he thought rolling his eyes and shaking his foot to get rid of the excess liquid. 

He leaned down and picked up the cup between his fingers and slowly placed it on the desk between his chair. He froze where he was when he saw another cup already sitting there, it was filled with a small amount of ale. It was not like the cup he held in his hand, that was his cup, this was... this was  _ her  _ cup. 

"That can't be." He said to himself, slowly reaching down to pick up the cup so he could examine it. 

He brought the cup close to his face and have it a soft sniff. It smelt of ale and something else... Daenerys. 

"She really was here." He realised placing the cup down gently on the table. 

He stood up straight and rubbed his chin feeling a little confused. He would have to tell her when he saw her again.  _ If he saw her again,  _ he thought.

There was a loud knock at his door. "Yur Grace, it's me." He heard Ser Davos unforgettable voice say from behind his door. The words slightly muffled.

He sighed and padded over to the door looking to Ghost who was still lying on his bed. Comfortably, he added bitterly giving him a look. His neck started to ache as if on cue just to add salt to the womb.

He opened the door and greeted Ser Davos. "Mornin' Davos." He said shuffling into his room to begin to dress for the day. 

He turned his back to Davos and made his way to the chest at the end on his bed.

Davos closed the door behind him and took in the room. "Did you have company?" He said gesturing to the second cup. 

Jon looked to it and carefully sat upon the chest and began to pull on his boots. A small smile growing on his face at the thought of Davos's questions.  _ I think I did,  _ he thought to himself. 

Jon shook his head and looked away, grabbing his leathers and pulling it over his head. "I-err... I dropped my cup so I just left it and filled another. I'll clean it up once I'm dressed." He lied, wincing to himself at the thought. 

_ I can't tell him, not yet,  _ he assured himself trying to make the guilt of lying feel less heavy on his chest. 

"You don't have to do that lad, I'll get one of the maids to come in a sort it for ya when they come to make ya bed." He said with a small smile on his face as if he found Jon's reaction funny. 

Jon nodded but he really didn't like the idea of having a maid clean up his mess when he had made it himself. 

"It's alright, Davos, just tell them to bring some cloth and water and I'll do it myself. I don't want to make extra work for them." 

Davos hid a smile and nodded his head, knowing there was no way to talk him out of it. He was used to doing most things himself, it wouldn't change now that he was a King. Habits were hard to break and harder still to make. 

"Their job is to clean up lad, you are just making more work on yourself." He argued giving him a pointed look. 

He ignored him and sighed. "Can you ask Sansa to join me in breaking my fast? I need to talk to her." He huffed pulling his hair from his face and tying it behind his head. It was the thing that finished his ensemble.

Ser Davos nodded, "I'm glad to see you got some sleep." He said as he moved to walk from his rooms. 

Jon stopped him for a moment. "Bring her to my solar and have food sent there too." He asked giving him a small smile in thanks when he received a nod.

He didn't know if he would tell Sana or Davos of what he had been seeing,  _ who  _ he had been seeing. He knew he had to keep it to himself for now, just until he knew what was going and why it was happening?

He made his way to his solar after he had dressed and made sure to clean up the mess he had made.

It felt strange to call the solar that used to belong to his father his own. It felt as if it was wrong to see anyone else sitting behind his desk, in his chair. Worse still for it to be him. He was his bastard he had no right to sit in his chair, yet he was named King in the North.

Still having achieved all he had he still felt a chill in his heart, a yearning for a home. Winterfell wasn't his home anymore, his death made that impossible. He remembers what it was like to feel the warmth of the place and sometimes he felt it but there was a part of him that was missing and he felt could not be filled until...

There was a knock on his door followed by the turning of the handle. It was a sure sign that it was Sansa entering not anyone else, giving they were too afraid to just burst into his door without being given permission.

His sister walked into his room, her fiery hair pulled from her face in simple northern style braids. It was so different from the way she wore it as children, always opting for a more elegant southern style to drowned out any northern characteristics. She seemed to flourish now she had embraced the north but still, there were ghosts in her eyes and a trace of bitterness to her tone. 

Her blue Tully eyes were duller then he remembered. It was one of the things he realised when he saw her again. That sparkle of youth had gone. Had been taken by the Lannisters, little finger, the Bolton's and whoever else used her to further themselves in the game. She was treated as a pawn and now she was stronger for it.

She gave him a polite smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Join me." He said with his own smile on his face and a softness in his voice.

He knew they had not seen eye to eye on many things but she was the only family he had left and the same could be said for her. They needed one and other.

She walked towards the seat before his desk and studied him for a moment. "You finally got some sleep." She said in a knowing way.

He sighed and smile at her,  _ is it really that noticeable _ , he thought thinking back to when Davos said the same thing.

He scratched his beard. "Aye, I didn't think anyone knew about that."

She gave him a look that told him most knew of his inability to sleep. "I find it hard to sleep sometimes but in the whole time we have been together I have not seen you sleep more than an hour." She stated concern embedded in her tone.

"Well I'm touched you're so concerned but I'm fine promise." He tried to reassure her with a smile but he could tell it didn't really work. 

"You have to be fine if you are to rule the north. That reminds me lord Manderly will be arriving with his youngest granddaughter to bend the knee. I have already prepared rooms for them but our food stores are taking a massive hit. We need to start rationing and getting regular shipments from all the major houses."

"You're right. I would like you to oversee that and write letters to all of the houses that are not here to let them know that we expect shipments to be made." 

He knew she wanted to help and he also knew she wanted a position where she would be able to take charge so he was giving it to her.

"I am also naming you Lady Stark of Winterfell. This is your keep and you run it while I run the north. If there are any problems within this keep then you see to it, it is solved and if you need my help come to me." She looked jolted by his information but slowly a smile crawled onto her features.

"What about you? You are the King in the North shouldn't Winterfell be yours." She asked.

He shook his head. "I may be Ned Starks son but I do not carry his name. You are the last living stark and there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. You will carry on the name and your children after you will rule as Lords or Ladies of Winterfell and if I do not have children they will become King or Queen after me." 

He knew she would make a fine Lady of Winterfell and he also knew he couldn't take her home from her nor could he take it from the Starks. He was a Snow and would always he one. He thought it only right that's she be his heir giving she was the only one of their family left.

She smiled at him, a true honest smile, one he hadn't seen from her since they were children and one never directed at him.

"You're naming me your heir?" She asked. He nodded in confirmation. "I thank you, brother."

He smiled back feeling her reach over the table and take his hand in hers. 

"When the snow falls and the white winds blow the lone wolf dies..."

"But the pack survives" she finished their father's words ringing clear and true in the frosted air.

They were a pack, they were to look out for one and other.

~o0o~

He sighed to himself as he sat alone in his rooms, a cup of warm ale in hand to keep him company and the chilling winds of the north to soothe him. Darkness had cast over Winterfell long ago and still sleep evaded him, he took another sip of his bitter ale to pass another second by. 

_ Waiting seems to be the only way to pass the time,  _ he thought looking down at the burning logs in the fire. Hoping he too, could be consumed.

His eyes felt heavy but his mind was heavier still, outweighing any notion of sleep or peace. When darkness came, thoughts with dark themes came along with it. Leading him down a slope which seemed to have no end nor beginning. He was stuck plummeting further and further, a drink in hand to help smoothen the decent.

"You should stop brooding" he heard a voice say behind him. 

The sound soft and light to his ears. His heart began to quicken at the sound of her words said so sweet they could be a melody.

He heard her gentle footsteps behind him, walking ever closer. Her scent clinging to the air, making him breathe in the sweet smell of flowers and spices with every breath. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath enjoying the way her exotic smell made his heart swell with warmth, far more soothing than any ale.

He smiled softly as he felt her hand come to the back of his chair, her fingers delicately skirting around him, so close and yet so far.

"Some say I came out of the womb brooding instead of wailing." He jested.

She came around to his side and he slowly turned his head to look up at her. Not before taking in her thin silky, light purple shift that flowed around her body leaving nothing to the imagination. His eyes slowly crawled up to her face to find her beaming down at him, laughter in those deep lilac eyes that haunted him so. It made him rethink everything and strangely made the memory of those dark nights seem trivial.

They had met several nights since their first meeting and had grown more comfortable around one and other. To the point now that they joked and spoke freely around one and other.

She slowly came round so she was standing before him, her body blocking the light from the fire.  _ Though he didn't mind it,  _ he thought resting his chin in his hand and rubbing his beard as he watched her. 

"I actually don't find that hard to believe." She retorted as she sat down in  _ her _ seat.

He poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her as if on cue. 

They had a routine, they would drink and talk by the fire. It was always light topics, though sometimes they would touch on things a bit darker, those were when they had a bad day and needed to let off steam.

He pretended to be offended, scoffing loudly. "Daenerys..." he said dramatically.

She looked at him over the brim of her cup, a smirk playing on her lips and she swallowed her wine. The wine he had purposely put in his room for her. 

"Jon." She said back, her brow risen in defiance.

He looked away with a smile but hearing her sigh deeply brought his attention back to her. A frown had edged its way onto her beautiful face, her eyes watching the flames dancing intensely. 

"Long day?" He asked, understanding what that look meant.

She scoffed. "Longest I've ever had." She said her gaze meeting his. "There is nothing to do on that ship but watch the waves and talk to one and other. Tyrion is having the time of his life."

He chuckled knowing full well Tyrion would thrive in that environment. "Tyrion loves to talk." He quipped.

She gave him a look. "We all enjoy what we are good at." Those words made an image of death to his mind. Death that he had brought on others.

"I don't" he whispered hearing the sounds of screams and please in his minds eyes. Blood glossing over the image like a clear paint over a canvas.

He blinked himself out of his daze and took a sip of his ale to wash down the bitter image with an even bitter liquid. 

"So you are coming to Westeros then?" He said changing the subject.

He gave her a quick glance seeing she was watching him closely. "Yes. We will be in Westeros by the end of the moon." She said looking down at her cup.  _ She was nervous,  _ he realised. "When we land we start the campaign for the throne and the seven kingdoms."

He winced. "Six" he mumbled on instincts. Immediately regretting it once it was out in the open.

"Six?" She asked her brow risen once again.

Jon swallowed feeling the heat from her gaze. "The north has declared its independence." He said watching as her nose flared in frustration, yet she still didn't seem hostile.  _ Not yet _ , he thought knowing he would have to tell her who he was.

She scoffed, "That declaration will not stand once I turn up with three dragons and 100,000 men. Your king or Queen will bend the knee just as Torrhen did." She said nonchalantly.

He wanted to laugh aloud knowing she had no clue she was speaking of him. "I don't think this king will the knee so easily."

She hummed. "And why is that?" She asked her eyes squinting.

He sat up straight and looked directly at her. "Because my people chose me to lead them, I will not betray their trust by giving my Kingdom to you." 

Her eyes widened in shock, her deep lilac eyes flicking over his entire form trying to process what he had told her. 

"You are the King in the north." She stated, it seemed to be more for herself than him. Her anger increasing until it had overtaken the initial shock.

He nodded slowly trying to be as gentle as he could so he didn't anger her but it didn't seem to work. 

"So you won't bend the knee?" She asked speaking more like a Queen then the Daenerys he knew.

He sighed and fell back into his chair. "Daenerys."

"Jon" she responded leaning back too, her arms resting lazily on the armrests and her eyes watching him. A challenge written in her depths.

"I expect you to bend the knee when I come." She said more demanding this time, leaving no room for him to deny her. But he found a way.

He clenched his jaw, trying to reduce his frustration. "I hate to be the one to say this but your expectation may not be met, Your Grace." He said defiantly. 

She held no title, no Throne and yet she is demanding he bend the knee. He couldn't fathom her arrogance.

"You are making this harder, for both of us." She told him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Me? You demand I bend the knee not the other way round." He explained showing how foolish her words were. "All I want is what is best for my people. And they will not follow you because they do not know you." He said soften trying to temper the tension that had built between them.

She let out a deep breath, showing she was trying to release her tension. "I like you Jon but my favour has its limits." She said softly. 

He smiled at her, ducking his head slightly. "I have your favour?" He asked feeling a swell in his chest that was foreign to him. She made him feel lighter.

She gave him a look that told him that was not what she wanted him to get from that statement. 

"Of course you do and that is why I don't want to fight you. I don't need more enemies, I need allies." She said earnestly.

He thought about what she said realising she was right. He didn't want to fight her either, it would hurt him to do so. 

"I don't want that either." He whispered. "But... I will not give my throne away to someone who wants it purely because they want power over the seven kingdoms, who wants it based on their father's name."

"You are testing my patients if you were any other you would be dead. Realise that, Jon Snow." She said but her words held no truth to them.

"If you kill me my sister will become Queen. She does not know you nor does she favour you as I do." He said with a small smile.

She smiled back, a lightness dancing in her eyes. "I have your favour?" She said just as he did. She leaned forward towards him her eyes searching his to confirm his words.

"Of course and mine doesn't have limits." He said teasingly.

She scoffed. "You lie. If your favour had no limits you would bend the knee." She said falling back and moving away from him once again.

He wanted to chide himself for making her move away but he buried it and leaned forward so his elbows were resting on his knees.

He shrugged. "One limitation then." He compromised seeing her smile once again.

She tried to hide her smile by looking away but he could see it tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I don't want your favour anymore if you don't bend the knee." She said, her words defiantly not serious at all.

He shrugged. "Fine. I'll give my favour to someone else then." He saw fire flash through her eyes, a sure sign of jealousy.  _ Why would she be jealous? _ he thought.

"I thought we understood each other, you and I. It turns out I was wrong. You chose to keep this from me all this time and you say you won't bend the knee. I'm starting to realise I do not know you as well as I thought, Jon Snow." She said her voice now actually angry. He had struck a chord by making her jealous, he realised his mistake too late. 

"I will give my throne to a person whose cause is the same as my own. A person who cares for the only thing worth fighting for..." he looked right at her once again. "Life." 

He had seen the dead, he knew what was coming that is why he would never give up the throne. He needed to prepare the north for what was coming and being King was the best way to do that.

"I fight for life, I am not the breaker of chains for no reason. I want what is best for my people, I want to break the wheel that's rolls over the poor and the common people." 

He sighed in defeat,"I don't want the Throne, truly, but I have to prepare my people for Winter and having this power is the only way to do so." 

"You make power seem like a burden and you make me sound selfish with all your selflessness." 

He snorted, shaking his head. "You have to be selfish to live but it seems I don't want to live." He said, intending it as a joke but said it in a darker tone than he first thought. He chanced her a look seeing the concern in her gaze but he dismissed it changing the subject. "I will help you where I can but I cannot give you what you want."

She stood in one fluid motion, walking towards the fire and looking down at it, deep in thought. Her figure was lit by the flames, nearly making him forget the whole conversation. 

"I cannot allow you to keep the north. Others will see it as an opportunity to declaim independence." 

He stood and took a step towards her. "Show my people who you are, make them see what I do and they will follow you." He explained watching as she turned to him, looking up at him.

"You are a king, they chose to follow you. If you bend the knee they will follow you and I will make you Warden of the north as your father was and his father before him." She said her voice growing quiet as she took a step forward, towards him.

The space between them seemed to be getting smaller and smaller. "I'm sorry. I can't." He said looking between her eyes showing how much he wanted to do as he asked and how much it painted him to deny her.

"You are making an enemy out of me, Jon Snow. If you do not bend the knee you will become nothing but an obstacle. I will either move you out of my way or... break you." She said, her words dark and intense.

He masked his face in an impassive expression, he felt themselves become distant. "You are making an enemy where there isn't one, Your Grace." He insisted standing up straight do he towered over her.

"Am I?" She asked. 

She seemed awfully hostile, it made the back of his hair stand on edge. The slight fierceness and bite to her tone, doing something strange to him. It was something he was not used to in Daenerys, not the Deanerys he knew anyway. Yet here she stood, standing toe to toe with him staring daggers right at him as if she was trying to murder him with only a look.

Her words set off a long silence between them, both doing nothing but looking at one and other. He heard her small breaths, felt them even. Her scent intoxicating, infiltrating his walls. He enjoyed the fire in her eyes even though he tried not too, but couldn't help but not attracted to her.

He could see the desire swirling in her depth, mixing with her anger in a dangerously enticing way. He felt himself shuffling towards her. His arm reaching out and circling around her waist, pulling her so she was flush against him.

"Daenerys." He whispers his voice rough and low in his ears. 

He saw her eyes darken as they flickered between his gaze. He felt her shiver as if the hearth had gone out the windows had let in the cold winter air. But he felt none of that only the warmth of her.

He leaned forward and felt her do so too, the breath between them mingling between the tiny space left. 

"Jon." She retorted her desire so delicious he wanted taste her.

Their lips touched one and other and he felt a growl erupt in his throat. 

The warm, soft feeling of her lips against his took over every thought that had routed into his mind until there was only her. 

She kissed him, intense and rough. Filling the kiss with raw fire, that nearly burnt. Her hands resting on his chest, fingers digging into his skin through his tunic. 

He felt her tongue skirt over the seal of his lips looking for an entrance. He groaned and slowly opened his mouth to her, feeling her tongue slid into his mouth, finding his own tongue waiting eagerly.

He pulled her closer, his hands crawling up her body to feel all of her. Their kiss became more frantic as he felt himself losing control. His animalistic side coming out to play, battering her tongue with his own and gripping onto her hips. 

_ I need this,  _ a voice growled in his mind making him pushed both of them towards the nearest wall, pinning her against it.

She nipped at his lip, sinking her teeth until it was almost painful. A deep growl settling in his chest as she soothed over his lip with her tongue. 

She tasted off fresh summers wine courtesy of the wine she had just been drinking. He had never liked the taste of it, giving the fact it was too sweet but on her lips... he would say it was the best thing he had ever tasted.

Her hands were all over him, squashed against his chest as he cadged her in against the wall. His hands moved down her body groping her hips, before moving further to find her thighs. He used them as leverage and lifted her into his arms. Instantly wrapped her legs around his waist leaving nothing between them but there clothing, yet he felt everything. The heat of her scratching. 

Her heels were dug into his arse her arms wrapped around his shoulders pulling him impossibly close. He felt her fingers drag through his locks tugging at them roughly and biting his lip once again, this time painful enough for him to pull away in a wince.

He licked his lip and looked at her. She was breathing fiercely, her cheeks a light pink, lips swollen and red from their rough kissing. He leaned forward and licked her lips, he smiled at the way she gasped, chasing him as he moved away again. 

"We should argue more often." She whispered against his lips.

He chuckled seeing the way her eyes flicked down to his lips. She was as ready as he was to kiss again. 

"Why do you say that?" He asked his words a little breathy.

She smirked and dug her hand further into his hair pulling him close. 

"Because if this is what comes of it, I want to argue every night, Jon Snow." Her voice was sensual and low. 

He chuckled and kissed her once again, diving back into the fire blinded by her.


	7. Dragonstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys arrives in Westeros...

**The Eyes**

She woke to the rocking of the waves, feeling her body move slightly to the calming rhythm. Her limbs were stiff and throbbing in remembrance of the night before, her body deliciously sour to commemorate what they had done... again. A smile slowly crept to her face, her eyes still closed as she tried to remember every dirty detail.

The way had kissed her, the way he had touched her, the way he had whispered sweet nothings in her ear, the way he had moved inside her. None of it could be real yet she felt it now, even his stickiness between her legs. It was strange, yet she didn't think too much of it. _I am allowed to have this one thing to myself,_ she thought, defensively.

She sighed, knowing she would have to get up and clean herself before anyone arrived to do it for themselves. Missandei seemed to know something, yet she didn't say anything nor did she bring up the bruises along her neck. She was discreet and she knew she wouldn't say anything unless Dany brought it up. And how would she explain it to her without sounding like she had turned mad?

It was hard for her to wrap her head around and she saw the proof every night and every morning when she woke. No, she couldn't tell anyone, not yet.

She took a deep breath, letting the salty air stick to her lungs. The scent of Jon still lingering somewhere in the air. _Maybe it's all in my head,_ she thought for the hundredth time. _Maybe it isn't,_ she countered to the doubtful voice in her mind. She pushed it aside to make room for her thoughts of home.

The captain had said before they would reach land by noon today. They would reach the shores of her home, her families home, Dragonstone. The seat of her house and a keep full of mysteries and past that she had yet to discover. She felt the fire in her flesh, it grew hotter the closer she was to her home as if it sensed it. It was the same feeling she got when she was around Jon. She shook her head, her mind involuntarily going back to him. _Stop it,_ she chided herself.

She opened her eyes so the wooden panels of her ceiling could greet her. Small rays casting over it to signal early morning. Sleep seemed to come even when her mind was awake, she went somewhere else but her body stayed to recharge for the day. She wondered where everyone else went when they slept. Once, she would just go to sleep and wake up and not know where the time went, sometimes she would dream and sometimes she would not. Yet her body always stayed to fend for itself when her mind left to do whatever minds do when the body is resting. It was a strange thought but it was also a thought no one had considered before.

She slowly sat up from her bed, letting the soft-covered fall down her body. The warmth that they had given her was slowly corrupted by the chilly air, it nipped at her skin as if they were tiny crabs. Her thin shift did nothing to help her against its vigorous attack, her body filling with goosebumps as if the air had caused tiny wombs all over her body.

She shivered as if someone had walked over her grave and slowly pulled the covered all the way off her as she let her feet tentatively touch the warm bristles of her rug.

Her day was the same as every other on this ship but today... today she would arrive at her home and she didn't know what to think about that.

She heard a soft knock at her door, she knew the knock already the softness of it mirroring the person who had executed it.

"Come in, Missandei" She called, pulling a soft shawl from her chair to try and hide the bruises on her neck, though she already knew it wouldn't do much.

Missandei entered the room with a tray of food for her, some bread and cheese and a few fruits along with a cup of water to wash it all down with. She gently placed it down at the small table in her room and sat on the other side.

This was how they usually did things, Missandei would sit and watch her eat and speak with her about random things and then she would help her start the day by dressing for it. She would always ask Missandei to join her in breaking her fast but the girl would always eat before she came to her rooms, she had no idea why but she didn't ask.

She sat down in her chair, going straight for the water. Her throat was dry and hoarse from the screaming she had done with Jon that night, the wine he had poured for her had been forgotten in the frenzy to rid one and other of their clothes.

"Did you sleep well, Your Grace?" Missandei asked, though there was a knowing look in her eye as she spied the bruises along her neck.

"Yes, I slept rather well." She responded, ignoring the woman's gaze for the food before her. She started by ripping off some bread and chewing it slowly. She was starved.

"I thought Daario was on another ship, Your Grace."

"He is..." She said, realising she had assumed the marks were from him, "I finished things with Daario a long time ago."

"Is there someone else?" The girl asked, nodding once again the marks on her neck.

Daenerys felt her lips betray her, turning upwards in a smile as dark eyes popped into her mind. _Stop it,_ she chided herself. "It's complicated," She told her, trying her hardest to get rid of her love stuck smile.

Missandei nodded, a smile making its way on her lovely face, "Perhaps a high collar today, Your Grace."

She nodded, "A good idea, my friend."

o0o

"Queen Daenerys, I was a slave one, bought and sold, scourged and branded. It is an honour to meet the breaker of chains (Valyrian)." The red priestess said, her Valyrian refreshing.

She didn't know the woman but she respected the robes she wore and what they meant.

"The Red Priests helped bring peace to Meereen. You are very welcome here. What is your name? (Valyrian)." Dany asked. She was her first guest to Dragonstone, she felt the need to be a gracious as possible.

"I am called Melisandre."

"She once served another who wanted the Iron Throne." Varys interrupted, his voice telling, "It didn't end well for Stannis Baratheon, did it?"

Melisandre's face seemed to fall, that confidence that she was used to seeing from those who wore the red robes seemed to falter when she looked at this woman.

"No, it didn't." She said, almost regretfully.

She had not heard much of Stannis Baratheon but just him being a Baratheon told her all she needed to know. He was the enemy, which meant anyone who served him was too but...

"You chose an auspicious day to arrive at Dragonstone." She looked to the spider himself a man who once served the enemy, "We've just decided to pardon those who served the wrong king." Varys bowed but she couldn't tell if it was sincere or not, she couldn't tell if anything he did was real.

"The lord of light doesn't have many followers in Westeros, does he?"

"Not yet. But even those who don't worship the Lord can serve his cause?" Those words seemed cryptic but she would bite.

"What does your Lord of expect from me?" She doesn't believe in much but she does believe in magic, the proof of it flying just above her.

"The Long Night is coming. Only the prince who was promised can bring the dawn. (Valyrian)"

"The prince who was promised will bring the dawn," She repeated, almost disappointed, "I'm afraid I am not a prince."

"Your Grace, forgive me..." Missandei piped in, her voice soft, "but your translation is not quite accurate. That noun has no gender in High Valyrian, so the proper translation for that prophecy would be the prince or princess who was promised will bring the dawn."

"Doesn't really roll off the tongue, does it?"

"No, but I like it better." She turned back to the Red Priestess with a new scene of intrigue. "And you believe this prophecy refers to me?"

Melisandre faltered a little, "Prophecies are dangerous things. I believe you have a role to play, as does another. The King in the North, Jon Snow..."

"Jon Snow?" She asked, her words losing their usual strength as a pair of dark grey eyes flashed into her mind. _She couldn't mean..._

"Jon Snow? Ned Stark's bastard?" Tyrion asked. She had to refrain from glaring at him for using that title to refer to Jon. _He was a King, not a bastard._ She wanted to spit at him but she calmed herself.

"You know him?"

"I travelled with him to the wall when he joined the Night's Watch." _He is real then,_ she thought.

"And why do you think the Lord of Light singled out this Jon Snow aside from the visions you've seen in the flames, that is?" Varys asked, his voice filled with scepticism.

"As Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, he allowed the Wildlings south of the Wall to protect them from great danger. As King in the North, he has united those Wildlings with the northen houses so together they may face their common enemy."

"He sounds like quite a man." She commented, realising there was so much that he hadn't told her. _Perhaps because he wasn't one the boast like other men,_ she thought looking at Daario as he observed.

"Summon Jon Snow. Let him stand before you and tell you the things that have happened to him, the things he has seen with his own eyes."

Tyrion shuffled beside her, "I can't speak to prophecies or visions in the flames, but I like Jon Snow and I trusted him, and I am an excellent judge of character."

She found herself smiling at him softly, realising he was right once again. Jon Snow was a good man, far too good for this world.

"If he does rule the north, he would make a valuable ally. The Lannisters executed his father and conspired to murder his brother. Jon Snow has even more reason to hate Cersei that you do." Jon had told her exactly the same in their many talks with one and other, though it did not excuse the fact he refused to bend the knee.

She wondered though, what it would be like to see him face to face, to touch him as she did in her dreams. _Would it feel the same, would he even know who I am._ That thought made her utter her next words.

"Very well. Send a raven north. Tell Jon Snow that his Queen..." He will know what she meant by that, "invited him to come to Dragonstone... and bend the knee."

She knew he would not like that but it was the only way to make sure no one suspected anything. If she wrote to him inviting him to Dragonstone because she wanted to know if fucking him in real life was the same as in their dreams then the north would think her nothing more than a whore.

She would have to tell him later.

o0o

She let her head rest on his hard chest, her finger strumming along his abdomen as if she was playing a soft melody. His muscle rippling with every change in key. _Was this real,_ she thought, her eyes cracking open to look up to him. His eyes were closed softly, his eyes-lashes fluttering softly as he took deep breathes, but still, he wasn't asleep.

If he was asleep this would have ended. _He is holding on as long as he can for both of them,_ she realised with a gentle smile playing on her lips.

She didn't want to leave just yet and she didn't want this to all be in her imagination, she had thought about it over and over. That same doubt popping into her mind, telling her this was nothing but loneliness playing tricks on her. Yet she would wake up with the proof of their lovemaking, she would feel it all as if it was happening right then.

He was there, he was real. He had told her who he was, he had told her what he was.

She swallowed and slammed her eyes shut at the thought knowing that if she brought it up again they would end up crashing once again, but it was what started this next stage in their relationship. She wouldn't be laying in his arms, after a night of passion if they had not argued but the argument was well-founded.

It was becoming more serious now, giving the fact she was in Westeros and the red which had told her of him and Tyrion had convinced her to send him a letter.

She didn't know if she could keep up this ignorance, she didn't know if she could put aside the fact that he was in the way of her throne. Worse. She didn't know if she could put aside what she felt for him for her throne, she didn't know if she could go to war with. _No, I never want that,_ she told herself her fingers pressing into his skin just to feel him. He seemed to calm her.

"What are you thinking about?" She heard him mumble, his hand curling tighter around her waist and pulling her closing.

She head was burrowed into his neck and her body pressed closer to him. His skin was warm like her own, his hands gently rough juxtaposing one and other. His other hand cupped her cheek, softly, his finger combing through her hair as his thumb caressed her cheek. She found herself sighing into his touch. _You are swooning like a maiden,_ she chided herself but still, she melted.

She let her eyes flutter open, finding his dark gaze watching her carefully. His eyes searching her own before falling to her lips as she slowly wet them. She smirked slightly, enjoying the way his eyes seemed to only darken, it was a sign he desired her.

"I was thinking of meeting you." She admitted, his eyes turning gentle as if her words melted him.

She loved the way he listened to her, the way he knew her better then she knew herself, the way he knew what to say to make her feel, the way he looked at her. He wanted her but he always saw her for who she was and looked at her as if she was the only women in the world. It was intense and hard not to drown in.

"Why?" He asked.

He leaned forward a placed a chaste kiss to her lips, for no reason, not that he needed a reason for it. Not that she minded it either. She smiled softly at him, her finger running over his bare chest, feeling the deep scars on his beautiful chest.

"Because I'm in Westeros." She said, knowing he already knew that. He gave her a look that said continue. "A red which came to Dragonstone tonight and told me of you, Tyrion suggested you were a good person... so I did the first thing I could think off. I told him to write a letter to you, telling you to bend the knee." She finished watching for his reaction.

He strained and stopped caressing her, his eyes turning cold and hard. "Why?" He asked again, his voice becoming more tense showing he was growing frustrated.

She didn't like the tone of his voice and found herself moving away from him and sitting up on the bed with the blankets covering her. _Now was not a time to be naked._ She frowned deeply at him, seeing him moving to sit up on his elbows, his eyes watching her carefully.

"Because we have to pretend we do not know one and other." She informed him, thinking he would have realised this already.

He shook his head and sat up, letting the blanket fall leaving his chest bare. They sat watching one and other on other sides of his large bed. She felt a little vulnerable and self-conscious under his gaze but she didn't let it show on her features.

"Why?" He asked again.

She rolled her eyes at him, finding the answer to be a little annoying now. "Stop saying why?!" She said, seeing him pull away slightly at the sound of her hostile tone. She took a deep breath and calm herself. "If I let you stay as King of the North, or ignore the fact you are King of the North, they will see me as weak. And worst of all if I told people what was going on between us they would think I am letting you stay as the King of the north because I'm sleeping with you if they believe it, that is. When you arrive we can disguise what this is... and find an alternative way of gaining the north and you can tell them of the reason you don't want to bend, something you haven't even told me might I add." She explained.

He nodded along finding her words to be somewhat agreeable, well that is what she thought. "You right, this must stay a secret and we must be discreet. If anyone finds out we... we are... together" He looked to her as he said the words as if asking her if it was the right way to describe what this was. "They would turn against us, or worse they would force me to marry you. And that would mean I would be on the throne with you and that is something I would never want." He informed her.

She was a little confused. Men loved power but this man didn't, which meant she had nothing to give him but herself. "I don't think that is the worse thing that could happen, Jon Snow." She said pointedly, giving him a look.

He smiled at her, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around her and pulling her towards him, so her back was resting against his chest. "No not the worst thing that could happen because then I could continue to have you with me every night and even better, every day." He whispered, as he gently pushed her hair aside to expose her neck to him.

She smiled to herself and gently closed her eyes as she felt his lips on her neck and shoulder as he lay gently kisses on her. "Don't distract me, Jon Snow." She warned halfheartedly, contradicting her words by lifting her chin so he could have better access.

His hands had found their way to her stomach, under the blanket that slowly fell away, lazily caressing her skin. "Do you want me to stop?" He mumbled against her skin, his words low and gravelly only adding to her arousal.

She took a deep breath finding the thought of earlier had melted away and all that was left was raw desire.

She shook her head and turned to him, so she could look at him over her shoulder. "No" She whispered to him, her eyes meeting his hearty gaze before falling to his lips. She found herself, biting her own, involuntarily. "Don't stop." She said, her voice barely audible over his deep primal breaths. Her own breathing coming out laboured in a lusty melody as the air around them grew hotter and tense.

He took her ear lobe between his teeth, grazing and tugging. His whiskers scratching against her skin, making it tingle in awareness. "Daenerys," He whispered, his grip tightening on her as he slowly began to kiss below her ear and down to her shoulder, in a sensual trail of his lips. Her mind going fuzzy as she tried to keep her wits about her.

She felt his hands moved from her abdomen up to cup her breast, slowly needing them in his gentle grasp, his thumb slowly caressing her hardened peaks. She moaned softly, her lips parting to take in more air, feeling it had grown thick to even get a survivable amount. She felt herself bite her bottom lip, gnawing at it softly as his right hand decided to move back down her body towards her throbbing centre.

She felt the evidence of his desire pressed against her back, hard and wanting as if begging for attention. She slowly moved her hand behind her finding his hard length and slowly fisting it in her grasp, gaining a groan of satisfaction from him. She felt it rumble in his chest, a satisfied smile spreading across her lips, enjoying his reaction.

"We should stop, so we can talk." He said, his words falling over one and other as he struggled to get them out.

He said those words and still, his hands moved further down her body until they combed through the crop of hairs above her dripping centre, making her body become tight in anticipation. Her hand stopping for only a second and her breath became silent as he slowly grew closer and closer to where she wanted him.

"We can talk later." She bit back, her head leaning back onto his shoulder exposing her neck to him fully now.

He nibbled at her neck. "Later." He mumbled into her skin in agreement, his fingers grazing over her centre. He growled finding her soaking wet for him, his fingers splitting her lips and running along her centre agonisingly slow. "Seven hells, Daenerys." He hissed out as she moaned softly.

She felt his finger slip inside her easily, gently thrusting in and out and his other hand still caressed her breast. It was beautiful torture. "Jon" She moaned lightly, her mind going blank his body and scent her anchor to the living.

She began to move her hips in sync with his fingers, finding a delicious rhythm to rock too. His thumb began to circle over her clit electing another throaty moan from her. Her body becoming unnaturally hot with every motion, she felt like she was climbing higher and higher into her desire, feeling the knowing tightening in her loins as he added a digit.

She felt his teeth graze over the sensitive skin on her shoulder, sharp and hard against her skin but not painful. It was a soft graze, that only made her shiver more intensely, his lips moving in to place a gentle kiss to her neck.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered into her hair, his voice deliriously low and gruff. His northern burr making her moan slightly as if it gave her more pleasure than his fingers.

"Jon," She breathed. It was becoming harder to hold on, his hands sliding from her breast to lay on her throat. She felt herself clench around his fingers slightly as he squeezed her softly, a strange and dangerous feeling growing inside her.

"Do that again," She moaned to him, feeling her release grow closer with every thrust of fingers and circle of his thumb.

He squeezed against growling into her neck and he bit down on her flesh, hard enough for it to be painful and that was enough for her to scream his name. Her body convulsing as she fell into the void of pleasure, unsure of anything else but the deep waves that washed over her harshly.

"Dany," His voice sounded like steel scraping along stone, deep and gravelly.

She covered his hands with her own, turning her head to the side to look at him over her shoulder. His molten gaze seemingly at the moment the only that could burn her. His fingers slipped from inside her, causing her to moan at the loss but the dissatisfied sound was sort lived as his lips found hers.

Their soft breaths filled the air as he roughly titled her head further towards him, deepening the kiss and allowing their tongues the finnaly meet.

A kiss had never done much for her but when Jon kissed her, she felt her loins flutter and her skin become hot and wonton. When his tongue slide against her she felt herself moaning, close to falling apart once again. Drogo, Daario... both names disappeared as soon as his lips found hers, there was nothing but Jon. His scent of earth and leather intoxicating.

Nothing ever had to be said between them... both knew what each other wanted, needed. It was all communicated through the secret and sensual language of their lips and touches.

 _I want you,_ he told her.

Even after what he had just done to her she found herself feeling the exact same. Something inside her hungry for more, for all of him.

She broke the kiss, holding his chest as he leaned forward to chase her lips. His dark gaze opening slowly to look at her as she smiled at him, her fingers dancing over his muscles. _Be patient,_ she told him with her eyes. His soft nod seemed hesitant.

She turned in his arms, saddling his lap and bringing them until they were chest to chest, no room between them as their hot skin sealed together and her arms wrapped around her shoulders.

She looked down at him, sighing as she felt his rough hands slide across the small of her back, holding her impossibly close.

She just stared at him, watching him stare back at her. His lips set in a slight tilt of his lips and eyes soft. Something unexpected filled the tension around them, something light and sweet as they just looked at one and other. Her heard stumbled slightly, its rhythm becoming strange but familiar as she saw that familiar but unique look in his gaze. _Love... s_ he thought, _No, It can't be._

But she knew, she knew because it was similar to the feeling she felt blossoming in her heart.

"You are so beautiful, Dany..."

"Dany?" She asked, a light-hearted smirk tugging at her lips, "A name I haven't heard in some years-"

"Forgive me," He muttered, sensing some history to it.

She dismissed his apology by pressing her lips to his, "I like the way you say it," She admitted against his lips.

His eyes lit up as he smiled, "Would you rather Dany or... _my queen_?" Her insides grew warm at the way he growled her title, it seemed more out of possession than it did respect.

"Ah, is that your way of bending the knee?"

He hummed, his hands sliding down her back to squeeze her arse causing her to gasp against his lips. "It depends on what you mean by bending the knee."

She began rolling her hips against him, his hands guiding the movement, "You know what I mean, Jon Snow?"

He groaned, the sound vibrating against her lips, "Maybe... next time..." He ground out.

Her own smugness had faded away into gasps and moans against him, both panting into one and other but still, they teased, watching one and other closely to see who would break first. His hard length slid through her folds, creating delicious friction between them.

"Perhaps you could... come to me... see if it feels better to do it for real-"

"I won't bend the knee." He said a little stronger than she would have expected.

"Oh yes you will... you will get on both knee's for me... and I will give you something to believe in." She breathed against him, the heat nearly burning her alive.

"Dany," He groaned, showing he had lost his patience, his cock soaking wet from her juices.

She laid her forehead against his, their lips brushing against one and other with every roll of her hips, "Jon," She moaned, showing she was ready.

He lifted her up using her arse allowing her to snake a hand between them and grab his throbbing length. She gave it a few sure pumps before lining it with her centre, watching for his reaction the whole time. Instead, she found his lips. She slowly sank down onto his length, both gasping into their kiss as she slowly sheathed him inside her.

She curled her legs around him, her toes straining with pleasure as she finnaly sheathed him inside her. "Seven hells," She heard him curse, the sound of his voice enough for her to clench around him.

She lifted herself until he was close to falling from her and then sunk back down swiftly, feeling his hands tighten on her skin. She smirked and did it against, joining it with a few slow rolls of her hips to create a rhythm that left them both gasping and moaning against one and other.

His lips found her breasts, nipping and suckling as his hands guided her above him. She felt her head fall back, moaning his name towards the gods as if thanking them for this moment. He took as an invitation, his hungry lips moving from her breast to lick and kiss her neck, sucking her quick pulse to make her moan once again.

"Daenerys." He groaned as she snapped her hips harder above him, his lips faltering as he tried to pant for air.

She would have smiled if not for her own pants, her nails clawing at his shoulders as she felt her clit rub against his pelvic bone. "Jon." She moaned again, tilting her head towards him and leaning her forehead to his once more so they could just look upon one and other.

 _Love comes in at the eyes,_ she remembered. The way he looked at her told her how true that statement was, his expressive eyes filled with more passion than what flowed around them... the soft but harshness of them confusing but strangely she understood. _I love him,_ she thought again finding there was no denying it now, finding it was somewhat easy to say as he stared back at her saying the same thing.

He thrust his hip upwards to meet her own, causing a high pitch gasp from her. He reaped it over and over, groaning as his thrust became harder and more sure until he was hitting _there._ She held him tighter, purchasing whatever she could as she felt that familiar coil inside her tighten.

He finnaly pulled her lips to his, his tongue thrusting itself into her mouth just as his hips slapped against her own. She could feel the bang inside her straining, could see his doing the same as his thrust became harder and desperate. _He was holding on for me,_ she noticed, which only made her feel hotter.

"Cum for me... Dany."

His hand snaked up her back, tangling itself in her hair and cupping the back of her to bring her lips closer to him. "I..." She gasped, but her words were smothered by his lips.

His other hand found her clit, rubbing his thump against it in tight circles to send her to new heights. His dirty tongue licking her lips as she broke the kiss, wetting her chin before biting it with his sharp teeth gently. He nipped at her skin like he was starved, letting his teeth sink in deeper as he found her shoulder, causing her to moan out pain and pleasure.

She grabbed ahold of his hair, her fingers clenching on his locks roughing pulling him to look up at her. But as soon as his eyes met her she fell apart, her head pillowing against his shoulder as she moaned his name in a high pitch scream. They were lucky that they were in their own dreams or the sound would haven waken everyone for miles.

She felt her walls clench around him, pulling him deeper inside him with every hard thrust from him, making her cry out louder and louder until her voice was so high and loud she couldn't even hear herself.

She could not tell what was left and what was right, could not tell what way was up and what way was down, her mind filled with a pleasurable fog that left her unconscious. She could feel him rutting against her but nothing else, it was as if a rope had snapped inside her and it had sent her tumbling into a dark abyss. She took deep breathes, trying to find the surface of her climax to get back to her earth.

"Dany..." He heard him growl into her ear. His movements, frantic and desperate. "Daenerys." He groaned, growling and snarling like a wolf as he found he found himself falling into the same pit as her.

She became conscious again, nipping and kissing her way up his neck until she found his ear, "I want you to cum inside me, Jon." She whispered, grazing her teeth against his lobe.

That was it took, she felt him twitch inside her, his grip on her growing almost painful as he thrust deep inside her and spilt himself. Her name slipped from his lips over and over as she rolled her hips against him, riding out his climax. She let herself moan into his ear as she found herself clenching around him again, enjoying his hot seed inside her.

Their deep breaths filled the room, as they slowly clambered their way back to some sort of normalcy. His caresses growing sweet, as if trying to make up for the way he had bruised her skin in his grip. She found herself returning the favour, kissing his neck with tiny pecks of her lips.

"Perhaps I will come to you," He breathed into her hair, pulling back a little to look at her.

She chuckled, lifting her heavy her head to look down at him, "And bend the knee?" She asked, both of them knowing what she means by the words.

He smiled at her, his beautiful facing lighting up to expose his youth, "Perhaps."

She hummed, leaning towards him, "Perhaps?" She questioned against his lips, "That is not an answer."

"It's my answer, _my queen._ "

She kissed him then, softly, gently as he fell to him back on the bed, pulling her with him. He curled his arms around her as she lay atop him, allowing her to cup his jaw and deepen the kiss. It wasn't about anything other than showing him how she felt about him, that she cared about him more than the sex.

She pulled back to look down at him, his grey eyes had turned soft and humourous leaving her smiling down at him in return. "I... I think I love you, Jon Snow."

His brows raised sharply, his eyes blinking as if he hadn't heard her correctly. But slowly a large grin spread across his face, leaving no room for doubt, "I think I love you too, Dany."

She felt tears pricking at her eyes, a stupid grin spreading over her face. She dove back in to kiss him, knowingly if she didn't she would cry like some maiden and she wouldn't forgive herself. She was not a maiden, she was a Dragon and Jon was her wolf... 


	8. Uncertanty

**The Shadow**

'I think I love you Jon Snow' Those words settled on him, lingering in his mind even as he went about his business all day. A new spring in his step that seemed to be noticed by Ser Davos and his sister. _Perhaps I will tell them one day,_ he thought to himself, ducking away from their knowing gazes.

Ser Davos sent him a warm smile as they left the stuffy hall. The meeting with the Lords about Daenerys letter had sent him into his usual dull mood.

"You are right to go, Yer Grace," The old sailor muttered as they paced through the halls.

"I don't know about that, Ser Davos, it seems like they don't think the same thing."

Davos shrugged, "You are their King, what you say goes." He told him, but he seemed to notice those words did nothing for him. The old man sighed, "They chose you to lead 'em because they respect you and your decision. They may not see it now but you are doing what is best for 'em."

 _It feels selfish,_ he thought to himself, knowing his true reason for wanting to go to Dragonstone.

"You need 'er, those stubborn bastards need 'er too, though they won't admit it." He continued, following Jon as he entered his solar.

Jon hummed, pulling his cloak from his shoulders and shitting down in his seat with a heavy sigh, "Maybe you are right."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

Jon's lips twitched at that but he continued, looking out of his window at the rising snows. _They needed Daenerys for what was coming._

"Do you believe when she says she has three Dragons?" He asked Davos, his word trusted more than any Lord in Winterfell.

He shrugged, "I've seen Magic, Yer Grace, don't understand it, nor do I wanna, but I 'ave seen it. If this Queen says she has Dragons, then I think I believe 'er... wouldn't expect someone to lie about somethin' like that. What 'bout you?"

"I think..." _I know,_ "she doesn't seem the type to lie either... but will she believe us. Will she believe me if I told her about the army of the Dead and the Night King?"

"I dunno yer grace, and you won't neither if you don't find out for yourself."

He leaned back into his seat, hearing it croak beneath him as he set himself into a comfortable position to brood for a moment.

"Could you leave me for a while, and have my-"

"Supper brought to you," Davos finished, showing how predictable he had become, "I will see to it."

He pulled a piece of empty parchment before him, staring down it trying to conjure up something to write in response to Daenerys's note.

"Before I go, yer grace..." Davos said, shuffling on his feet as he met Jon's gaze. "I've noticed a few things... marks on your neck, extra cups for wine..." He trailed off, a knowing look in his eye.

Jon sighed, "Say what you mean." He told him, knowing exactly what he was going to ask but still finding himself slightly frustrated by it.

"Well... who is she?" He asked, forgoing any sense of hesitation.

He let his gaze fall away from Ser Davos in defeat. Instead, finding the handwriting of the women the topic was on. "It's complicated..."

"Alright then, just as long as yer happy, Jon," Davos told him, a kind smile on his face as he bowed and turned from the room.

Jon watched him leave, finding his thoughts had drifted to Daenerys instead of the task at hand. Her bright flash in his mind, leaving him to lick his lips in want. _'I think I love you, Jon Snow'_ she said to him again, her voice just above a whisper.

He had seen it in the way she looked at him, felt it in their kiss, he knew deep down what she felt for him because he felt it too. As much as he wished to deny it, or bury it, he loved her. He loved the Daenerys, Dany. But he had no idea who this DragonQueen was, he had seen glimpses of her when he had brought up the north but he had easily uncovered her mask to fine his Dany once more.

He was almost frightened she had no idea who he was, that his dreams were nothing more than dreams and seeing and loving her was the gods cruel trick on him. He was afraid that if he went to Dragon stone to see her that she would deny ever knowing him and then he would be left pining for something his mind had made up.

He pushed that feat aside and pulled out his quill, dipping it ink and scraping it over the side to rid any excess. He sighed, swallowing thickly as he wrote his response.

 _Daenerys-_ no he thought, scratching it out and throwing it to the basket beside his desk.

_Queen Daenerys Targaryen First of Her Name, I, Jon Snow, King in the North-_

No, no title, he thought, seeing how weird _King in the North_ looked. He scrunched up the ruined parchment and threw it with the other. Humming to himself, tapping his floor against the floor.

_Queen Daenerys Targaryen First of Her Name, I, Jon Snow, formally accept your invite. I expect to be on Dragonstones sored by the end of the moon if the winds are kind..._

He paused wondering if he should add more, perhaps a little nod to tell her that it was him writing. He put down his quill, picking up her raven to him. He unscrolled it carefully, reading over it once again.

_Queen Daenerys Targaryen First of Her Name, invites you to Dragonstone. My queen commands the combined forces of Dorne and the Reach, an Ironborn fleet, legions of Unsullied, a Dothraki horde and three dragons. The Seven Kingdoms will bleed as long as Cersei sits on the Iron Throne. Join us. Together we can end her tyranny. I appeal to you, one bastard to another, for all dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes._

_We all enjoy what we are good at..._

_— Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the Queen_

'We all enjoy what we are good at' Those words erased all doubt that she was nothing but a fragment of his imagination. He smiled, letting the letter fall from his grasp in favour fo his quill.

He continued...

_I don't_

_— Jon Snow, King in the North_

He smiled down in satisfaction, rolling up the letter and sealing it. He tucked it away and handed it to Davos to have sent to Dragonstone when he brought him his supper.

Sansa came to him solar not long after with scrolls from the northern Lords, not in attendance and some from the south.

"We don't have enough food here, Jon, we need to start having grain sent to Winterfell." She told him, after reading out the accounts to him.

"Your right, if this is where everything is going to end up when the war does come it will do well to be able to feed them all. You can see to that as Lady of Winterfell." He told her, watching her face twitch. She seemed to enjoy he gave her such power. "Is there anything else?"

She placed all her notes down on the table and look at him like a brother and not a King. "I am all for you gaining alliances, we need the men. But the Mad Kings daughter?" She was sceptical, "The north cannot lose another leader, especially not in times like these. They need their King... Jon. If something happens..."

"Nothing will happen, I promise." He tried to reassure her, "I will be back within a few moons and I expect to arrive back with Queen Daenerys and her forces, not to mention her Dragons."

"And you believe such tales? You believe she has three fire breathing Dragons just lying around her island?"

He chuckled at the image, "I do, I have to Sansa."

"Why hasn't she used them to take Kinglanding already, it seems foolish to wait and waste her men fighting when she could just take her Dragons and burn King Landing-"

"And the people in it." He added, a little confused as to why she would say such a thing.

"What war isn't won without innocent casualties?" She asked, her ideology almost frightening him. But she was right.

"Perhaps she wishes to minimise the damage. And it is not like Cerci will let Kinglanding go without some sort of grand gesture... look at the Cept of Balore."

Sansa nodded, "And the Battle of Blackwater..." He frowned in confusion, "She was going to kill herself and Tommon on the Iron Throne but her father arrived just in time."

"I almost wish he had arrived a few minutes later-"

"As do we all Jon." She mirrored her hate for Cerci almost as large as her respect for the woman.

"So perhaps she has something big planned if she falls this time, as a Queen no less."

Sansa nodded, "I wouldn't put it passed her. She will do something to leave a dent in Daenerys's force or her mental state. I see her using her weakness against, slowly pulling apart her iron-clad rebellion to bring her on the brink of desperation and then she will finally strike, one last hooray of sorts."

He hummed, wondering if Tyrion had told Daenerys the same. "She would go for the allies?" He asked, Sansa.

"Aye, take them out one by one until she is alone. Its easier to take a person out when they feel alone, easy to isolate them and make them feel small. But people are unpredictable and Queen Daenerys's family has a history of madness."

"I don't know the woman but she doesn't seem mad, not if the stories I have heard of her are real."

"And what stories are those, I have heard nothing of her apart from what is written in that raven," Sansa said, pointing to the raven still sprawled out before him.

"When I was Lord Commander of the Nights Watch the Measter there, Measter Aemon Targaryen, received ravens from the east. I sometimes read a few of the ravens when he left them around the library and I have to admit I was unable not to feel some sort of respect for the woman."

"She used her power in Essos to free slaves and abolish slavery, she protected women and children and gave them a chance at life." He told her, "And that was all after she was sold to a horse lord, who most likely rapped her over and over-"

Sansa winced but schooled her expression to listen. He shook away his guilt, sending her an apology.

"She birthed three Dragons by walking into her husband's pyre and coming out unburnt. Then she aquired the Unsullied, freeing them from slavery and she used them to free other slaves. Which earnt her the name, breaker of chains." He told her, lying a little.

He didn't read it all in the ravens, some was what she had told him.

"She sounds like quite a woman," Sansa quipped, though she was quite convinced. "Though her doing all those things does not prove she is a good ruler but perhaps I am wrong." She shrugged. 

"It's all I have to go on." He told her with a sigh, slightly wishing he was with Daenerys now.

"I will respect your decision, brother, but it does not mean I like it," Sansa told him, standing from her seats and collecting her scrolls. "Please, don't be so trusting... it will either get you hurt or worse killed, again."

He nodded, showing he understood and finally watched her leave.

The rest of the day was a blur, he found himself in his usual spot, washing away his annoyance with a mug of ale. The hearth warming him as he waited, waited for sleep to come and take him to where he really wanted to be... with _her._

He soon found his lids becoming heavy and his breathing becoming soft, the room around him morphing into something unrecognisable. _Her rooms this time,_ he thought opening his eyes to see the hearth still roaring before him but this time it was set into a new fireplace, Dragons engraved into its dark stone.

The chair under him was different too, the leather felt like butter under him and the plush cushion were lined with soft fur. _Perhaps I need to renovate,_ he thought, fiddling with the arm of the chair.

"Didn't expect to see you here..." He heard a voice call to him.

He smiled under his breath as his neck strained to look over the seat to her. She was dressed in one of her flimsy shifts, her long hair falling in waves down her back and her bright eyes staring at him. Her smile seemed to brighten as he watched her pad towards him on her dainty feet, sliding her hand over his shoulder.

"Good evening," She whispered, forgoing her seat to sit in his lap.

Her slender arm wrapped around his shoulder, her other playing with the material over his chest.

"Good evening, my love," He responded, curling his hand around her back and one over her lap as her feet dangled off the side of the chair.

She smiled at the title, leaning forward to press her lips to his, "My love," She repeated against his lips.

She let her finger draw a line from his bottom lip to his chin, her lazy smile intoxicating. "We should talk first," He told her swallowing when her finger drew over his adam's apple.

"What is there to talk about?" She asked, not stopping the exploration of her tiny finger.

"I received your letter..."

"And?" She asked, her finger pausing so she could focus her attention on him.

"The northen Lords didn't like it, especially when I told them I was going to accept your invitation-"

"You are going to come to Dragonstone?" She asked, her lips twitching.

"Aye, I'm coming to Dragonstone, to meet the DragonQueen." He jested but took note at the dark note that passed her gaze at the use of the title.

"You know my name, Jon, please use it." She warned him, though it was lighthearted.

"What do you want to call you when I arrive? Dany? _My Love_?"

She cracked a smile which only made him triumph, "Your Grace will do, or perhaps... My Queen." 

He sighed, the mood dampening, "You are _my queen_ but..."

"But?" She repeated, sensing his hesitation.

"You are not... My Queen." He could feel her frustration, "I can help you in whatever you need, whatever you ask... it's yours but I cannot give you the north. It's not mine to give."

"But it is-"

He interrupted her, "What I mean is that the people chose me to rule if you want the north it is not me you have to convince... its the northen Lords and Ladies. They will never accept you if I just bend the knee and give it to you. They will just see you as another southern ruler who could not give two shits about their welfare."

"But I do care."

"I know that but they don't. I am Ned Starks son, bastard son and my sister his trueborn daughter and still most didn't help us take back our home. I would have died that day, on that field if the Vale hadn't come and then where would I be..."

"Stuck in my room, perhaps," Daenerys jested her hand rubbing his jaw in comfort.

"What I am trying to say is that it took me taking back Winterfell to earn their respect and I am the son of their beloved Lord."

"And I am the daughter of the Mad King." She responded. He winced slightly, tightening his hold on her.

"That's not who you are," He whispered, tilting her head to look down to him, "You are a Queen, a saviour... you are more than your father."

"I seem to be failing at Queening..." She trailed off, "Lady Olenna said something to me today, something I haven't been able to get out of my mind."

"What is it?"

She smiled slightly, "She said, 'be a Dragon' I don't know what she means by that. I've been trying to be a Dragon and I feel like I have been failing at it. I don't know these lands and I thought as soon as I made it to Dragonstone that I would finnaly feel home but... it just feels like another empty keep."

"I feel the same about Winterfell." He admitted, staring off into the flames, "Growing up I was always the outsider, the bastard, I never fit in there and when I left I missed my home terribly but I found a new one at the wall. Until it wasn't my home anymore." He scratched on his chest, feeling his scars sting in awareness.

"When I took back Winterfell it felt empty... hollow. I took it back for my farther, for my family but it didn't help make it any more like home." He shrugged it off, "Perhaps I will never find my home-"

"Don't say that," She interrupted, turning his head to look at him. "One day, Jon Snow, one day."

He stared into those eyes again, the fear he had once held for them forgotten long ago. Instead, he felt only love, only warmth. _Perhaps home wasn't a place,_ he thought now understanding that strange sense of comfortability in his heart.

"I love you," He whispered to her for the second time in his life.

Her beautiful face lit up into a smile, "I love you too," She told him, the sound making his heart trip over itself.

He would never ever understand how such a woman could love him, never understand how she could even look at him the way she did. She was a Queen and he was a bastard and still... _and still_ she loved him.

"Jon?" Her voice was sweet but there was a heaviness to her name that made it a question.

"Yes, my love," She smiled at that.

"Will you tell me of Westeros, what you know of it. I fear that Tyrion's knowledge could be somewhat outdated."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he constantly tells me he was drunk through most of his last few years in the country." He couldn't help but chuckle at that, knowing for a fact that it was true.

"Aye, from what I saw, he was." He thought back to the last time he has seen the man, pissing off the edge of the wall. "I don't know much either, well of the south that is, Sansa has been receiving ravens says she has spies in the south." He trailed off.

"Told me that Casterly Rock has dried up, which was one of the reasons why they tried to marry into the Tyrell family... needed the money-"

"What?" She asked, startled.

"Aye, she told me that Lady Olenna suspected as much. If I was the Lannisters I would hit HighGarden, take the crop and the money and pay off some debts. And food is just as valuable as money in times of war."

"What of Caterly Rock, why not take the Lannister seat?"

He frowned shaking his head, "If I had Kinglanding I wouldn't care much about a Rock, especially if it holds no value. No, I would wait it out in the seat of all power, wait for my enemies to come to me and take out their allies one by one until they are weak. Once the war is done the rock would fall back into my hands anyway, so why would it matter."

"So you would go for Kinglanding straight the way, forget Casterly Rock?"

"Aye, you cut off the snakes head and all that. But I should warn you, Sansa tells me that Cerci is one of the smartest people she has ever met, perhaps smarter than Tyrion. I would not leave my allies open, she will strick as soon as she sees any weakness."

"Highgarden?"

He shrugged, having no idea what Cerci's plan was, "It is the second richest house in Westeros and holds most of the food of Westeros. If she takes it she has the upper hand... the peoples favour. If she can feed the people they will be loyal to her despite how much of a bitch she is."

"Cerci also knows Tyrion holds a grudge against her and the rest of the Lannisters, she knows Casterly Rock is the first place he will hit. So I expect her to know you are coming, which means she will either fight or she will evacuate all her forces to save them for a later battle, I argue the latter. Again the Rock holds no value and she believes she will win, she won't waste what men she has holding it."

She looked down at him, a smirk spread over her face as she searched his eyes as if seeing him for the first time. "You are smarter than you look."

He didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or be offended by it, his face seemed to show that exact thought because she chuckled at him. "You are adorable," She told him, pecking him on the lips.

"Not a word I have ever heard used to describe me before."

"And what do they use? Handsome, gorgeous, comely-"

"Pretty... I've been called pretty far too many times for comfort."

She giggled against him, the sound beautiful as was the face she made as the sound fell from her lips. "That seems like an accurate statement." She told him.

"Oh really... you think me pretty, Your Grace?"

"Aye-" She mocked, "Prettiest man I have ever seen." She said in a fake northen accent. "Could have you sold as a bed warmer in Lys for a heavy purse, I am sure-"

"I thought slavery was abolished by some Queen. What was her name?" He clicked his fingers as if trying to remember, "Queen Denis... not that's not it." Her mouth opened wide in shock, "That Dragon one, with the light hair and lovely tits."

She scoffed at him, smacking his chest in a light-hearted chide, "What, they are quite lovely?" He told her, leaning down to lay a kiss between them.

"You insufferable man," She pulled his head from between her breasts, "Is that all you think about, my breasts."

"And other things," He said, squeezing her arse with his other hand. "But I must admit this Dragon Queen is not sore on the eyes, I think I could stare at her for days and never get bored."

He was surprised when he caught her blushing, something he was not used to from his little Dragon. "But she seems to have a temper, and is exceedingly stubborn..." _But its one of the things I love about you_ was what he wanted to say.

She scoffed, "And what of this King in the south, no east was it-"

"North," He added, trying not to smile.

"Ah, yes the King in the North. I've heard he is somewhat of a northern brute, unwashed and unable to count to ten without stuttering. Let me not insult his intellect by telling you of his inability to count to twenty."

"I think the man you speak of the King of the West, those fellows are rather uneducated I must admit, Your Grace." He informed her, his tone formal. "No this King of the North is very wise and not to mention quite handsome-"

"Now you must be mistaken, he has never been described as handsome. Pretty seems more of a just statement, don't you agree, My Lord?"

"I am afraid I do not, he seems to have acquired a few scars which have ruined his face-"

"I would not say ruined, My Lord, no they have made him look like the rugged warrior he is and undeniably fetching." She smiled down at him, running her finger over the scar that ran over his left eye.

"I've heard he is a dower fucker... has no other expression but a frown." He enjoyed the way she chuckled at that.

"Perhaps he hasn't found anything to be happy about... I would surely be dower all the time if I lived in such barren lands."

"Barren?" He scoffed, "The north is beautiful, filled with rainbows and lemon tree's, not to mention the naked woman."

"What do you know of naked women?" She asked, a hint of jealousy in her question.

"Nothing really but I do know of one naked woman, well a woman I want to be naked."

She smirked under her breathe, "Perhaps you should tell her then, My Lord, women cannot read minds."

He ran his hand up her side, "This one can, knows exactly what I want..."

"Does she now?"

"Aye, she seems to be my other half. The missing link in my hearts chain... perhaps the only woman I will ever love."

Her expression turned soft then, her eyes becoming wet as she caressed his beard cheek with her fingers. "A poet it seems..." she joked half-heartedly.

He leaned in closer, "It seems you have that effect on me, my love."

He moved to taste her but was met with air, her weight in his lap disappearing in an instant, leaving him alone.

His eyes shot open and he found himself back in his chambers, looking around frantically to see if she had joined him but it was empty. He blinked at the flames before him, his ale his only comfort as he picked it up and resumed his drinking wondering what had happened.

He looked to the window to find it still to be dark out. He had not seen the night is some time, not since when he had been dead. It seemed strange to look out to the stinking stars while he was still awake.

It made him feel alone, a cold shiver running down his spine as he thought of Dany. He was filled a familiar sense of doubt, _perhaps I dreamed it all and she was nothing more than a lie._

He washed down his worry with his bitter ale, missing the taste of her and the warmth of her beside him. 


End file.
